


Star Trek: Beyond the Stars [HIATUS]

by Mussells



Category: Star Trek, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Action, Adventure, Alternate Universe - Star Trek Fusion, Angst, Betazoid Kim Seokjin, Captain Namjoon, Chief Engineer Jung Hoseok, Chief Medical Officer Kim Seokjin, Chief Science Officer Min Yoongi, Chief Security Officer Park Jimin, Commander Kim Seokjin, Ensign Jeon Jungkook, Family, First Officer Min Yoongi, Fluff, Half Betazoid Kim Taehyung, Half-Vulcan Min Yoongi, Kim Seokjin | Jin & Kim Taehyung | V Are Siblings, Lieutenant Commander Jung Hoseok, Lieutenant Kim Taehyung, Lieutenant Park Jimin, Multi, POV Multiple, Romance, Science Fiction, Slow Burn, Smut, Soulmates, everyone is bad at feelings, pilot kim taehyung, slightly aged up hyung-line
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-03-04
Packaged: 2019-10-23 09:46:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 120,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17681111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mussells/pseuds/Mussells
Summary: Kim Namjoon is the youngest Starfleet Officer to ever ascend to the rank of 'Captain'. He's 27 years old, has a PhD in Xenolinguistics, his own goddamn ship, a crew of rag-tag officers under his command, and one goal in mind: to boldly go where no-one has gone before.He also has no fucking idea what he's doing. Sort-of.Join him and the bridge-crew of the USS-Triptych, as they endeavor to discover what lies Beyond the Stars.AKA your favourite ships on a ship (shout-out to Scripturient27)





	1. Preface

**Author's Note:**

> HELLO
> 
> So this is it! If I'm a whore for anything other than Bangtan, it's Star Trek! My brother suggested I combine my two loves and create this fic for you guys. It's probably a little different than what you might be used to, but I think it's going to be super fun, and you're going to love it. It shall be filled to the brim with Namjin, Yoonmin, Taekook, OT7, fluff, angst, and smut in a fun, sci-fi universe which is really the gift that keeps on giving. 
> 
> I'm so excited for this fic. I hope this teaser has sufficiently wet your appetite, and you're down to jump on this ride with me. Lessgeddit 2019!!!!
> 
> *Hearteuuuu*

"Captain's _Personal Log, Star-Date 43489.2_

_Captain._

_Wow._

_That's fucked-up._

_But I'm here. I'm really here. I stepped out of the turbo-lift and some Ensign yelled 'Captain on the Bridge', and everyone stood at attention and they just kept fucking_ standing _there until I sat down in the chair and said 'at ease'._

 _And I sat in the chair. I sat in the goddamn chair and it's_ my _chair. It's_ mine. _I've never been more fucking nervous for anything in my life, but I sat down in that chair and it felt..._ right.

_I belong here._

_She's so beautiful - the ship I mean. Nebula class. How'd I get so lucky? NCC-97812, USS Triptych. And she's beautiful. Moves like a dream - silent as a ghost -sexiest goddamn nacelles I've ever seen. And the core - Jesus fucking Christ, the warp core. Every captain's wet dream - working at 113 percent._

_I met the chief engineer: Lieutenant Commander Jung Hoseok. Nice guy - big smile. Likes to play music and dance as he works. Says 'pah' a lot. 'Pah!' like an exclamation, y'know? Had to do my best not to tap my foot to whatever shit he was playing. I can't dance, man..._

_They say you're supposed to keep a certain amount of... separation... between yourself and your crew._

_The fuck does that even mean... separation?_

_Don't talk to them? Don't smile at them? Don't be their friend. Fuck. I have no idea what I'm doing._

_I can't wait 'til Yoongi-hyung gets here. Though, I guess he's not really, 'hyung' anymore, is he? When I received word that he'd accepted the position as First Officer I almost fucking passed out. I've never felt such relief in my whole damn life... Min Yoongi calling me 'captain', though... makes my skin crawl. Maybe it's that he's older - I dunno. Either way, I've looked up to that kid for practically my whole adult life. If anyone should be captaining a starship it's him, not me._

_He was supportive when we spoke... I mean... as supportive as I've ever heard him. He just watched me with those cool, aloof eyes and said 'the decision was logical, Captain'. Logical. Fucking Vulcans and their fucking_  logic.  _You'd think the fact that he's half human might means he'd chill out on the whole, 'suppressed emotions' Vulcan shit. As if. He's fucking worse. I think I've seen that kid smile once in my whole life, and it wasn't even a 'smile', per se. It was more of a grimace - like he had a stomach ache and needed to go see a doctor --_

_Shit._

_Jin. I saw him on the crew manifest and I just froze. Probably against a dozen regulations. I should've told someone about -- about_  us _. I didn't, though. I just signed the manifest and let it slide. Something about having him on board e-even after...._

_...._

_It just made me feel safe. Knowing he'll be here._

_And his brother Taehyung! A goddamn Lieutenant! God, the last time I saw that kid he'd barely finished_ high-school! S _uddenly he's graduating_ flight school _, top of his class, and he's fast-tracked to lieutenant and now he's gonna pilot the ship. This ship._ My  _ship._

_Shit, I should go see Jin as soon as he's on-board. The longer I put it off the worse it'll be. It's not like the fucking Captain can avoid his Chief Medical Officer for like... a whole five years. That's not possible, is it? Jesus Christ I'm too young for this. I'm gonna be grey by the time we reach Jupiter Station, and we haven't even left Earth's orbit yet._

_The ships running on practically a skeleton crew. Most of the senior staff aren't even on board. We're missing our First Officer, obviously; our head of security, as well, a certain Lieutenant Park Jimin - crazy record... Starfleet medal of valor? The kid's only 24... Same age as Taehyung... Why is everyone on this fucking ship so fucking young_?

_Fuck._

_As far as I know Doctor and Lieutenant Kim - so fucking weird calling them that - will also board at Jupiter. For now, I've got a twenty-one year old Ensign with big fucking doe-eyes at the con. Ensign Jeon Jungkook... straight out of the academy with a dual-degree in astroscience and advanced subspace geometry: captain of Nova-squadron at the Academy, as well - fucking overachiever. This kid graduates in the top percentile of his class and then_ requests _a post on the Triptych. Seven other commands want him - basically fighting tooth and nail over this kid. But nah - he requests my ship. No fucking clue why. Makes me goddamn nervous, though._ _So I'm headed to the bridge expecting this kid to have a giant stick up his ass... but then he's there fucking jumping out of his seat, practically, yelling 'captain on the bridge' with a big fucking bunny smile on his face, staring at me all googly-eyed like daddy just came home. Christ, it was adorable. So now I feel fucking responsible for this kid's whole goddamn life, y'know? Not that I wasn't before... but now I feel like,_  extra  _responsible, ya feel?_

_Jesus... this whole 'stars of command' program is gonna kick my ass. I dunno how to captain a vessel, let alone teach some young, starry-eyed Ensign what-the-fuck he's supposed to do. This kid's supposed to shadow me - learn from me and shit. As far as I'm concerned he's about as qualified to captain this vessel as I am. I'm hanging on by the skin of my teeth, here, and we haven't even set off yet._

_Five years in deep space._

_Five years out there, in the great unknown._

_To boldly go where no-one has gone before._

_It feels like a lot... but... I'm excited, y'know?_

_I can't wait. "_

Namjoon's communicator chips. Almost out of habit, his hand swings to his chest, activating the insignia against his breast.

"Go for Captain," he says.

"Um," the sound of a throat clearing over the intercom. "Sorry, Captain, but we're scheduled to depart for Jupiter Station in T-Minus fives minutes. I thought you might like to join us on the Bridge?"

Namjoon scrunches his nose, the four captain's pins on his collar suddenly super, super heavy.

"Um, that's fine if you don't want to, uh, sir, I just, thought I should check in case you did want to, I'm sorry to disturb you!"

Namjoon grins, despite himself. "That's fine, Ensign Jeon, thank you, I'll be on the bridge shortly."

"Yes sir, Ensign out."

Namjoon rubs a hot, nervous hand across his face.

" _Well, I guess I better wrap this one up, computer. Um - thanks for listening; I guess we'll talk again soon. End Captain's Personal Log."_

The computer chimes in affirmation, and the holographic oration flickers in the air before disappearing completely.

"This is it I guess," Namjoon sighs to himself, the pressure of the next five years pressing firmly against his shoulders.

Even so, he pulls at the base of his uniform, straightening it out; he runs a long, tan hand through his hair and heads resolutely for the Bridge.

*cue opening theme*


	2. Reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a whore for NamJin. I repeat. I'm a whore for NamJin. The first chapter is HERE. I couldn't sit on it any longer, and fuck me if it wasn't the most fun I've had writing anything, maybe ever. 
> 
> Some suggestions. If you're not a trekkie (assume most of you aren't) you might want to do a quick google search on the Borg and Wolf 359. I'll always leave a note if there's anything in the text that might confuse you, or requires some context. There isn't much in this chapter, but there may be in the future. Memory Alpha is going to become your best friend. Don't be afraid to look shit up! 
> 
> Other than that, I really hope you enjoy this chapter. For any Trek fans out there, I've fucked around with the timeline a lot. Sorry, not sorry. Had to be done. 
> 
> Please read and leave me comments! I love to hear from you so, so much! 
> 
> *hearteuuuuu*

"Are you sure you're okay?" Jin pressed a hand against his brother's forehead, a worried expression clouding his features.

"Jesus, Hyung, I'm fine!" Taehyung flitted him away. "Why would I have a fever anyway?"

Seokjin dropped his hand to his side, though he eyed his brother with uncertainty.

He couldn't read him right now.

"Hyung, I swear. I'm fine. I haven't had an attack in ages, okay? The only person in here who's giving me issues is _you_."

"What?"

"You're so _loud,_ Hyung. Could you like, calm down? It's gonna be fine."

Calm down?

Jin hadn't realized he wasn't calm; though his foot _was_ tapping sporadically against the ground and his heart _was_ beating double time. What reason did he have to feel so goddamn _nervous_? This was nothing new. Just another assignment on another ship. Just patients and broken bones and headaches and stuffy noses. Maybe, from time to time, he'd have to deal with an outbreak of Urodelan flu... but again: nothing he hadn't dealt with before.

This was fine.

He's _fine._

"Oh my God, Hyung, there she is!"

He's not fucking fine.

"Oh, Hyung," Taehyung practically crooned. "Oh, Hyung, she's so beautiful. Can't wait to put my hands all over her; can't wait to treat her _just right.._."

Where Taehyung had his face and hands pressed against the glass, staring out at the sight with his nose pushed flat, Jin was frozen in place as the USS Triptych came into full view, ghosting passed the viewing station in all her glory, beautiful and serene, silent as the empty space around her. There was a small, almost unnoticeable, rumble as the ship made port, docking clamps pulling free from the station, sealing tightly across the ship's hull. With a burst of air, faster than a blink of an eye, the walkway was pressurized, and that was that.

The ship was here.

 _He_ was here.

"Wow, Hyung, are you seeing this? Are you really seeing this, hyung?" Without removing his face from the glass, Taehyung swatted at his older brother's arm in an attempt to catch his attention.

His excitement was almost, _almost,_ contagious. Everything with Taehyung was like the first time. It was something Jin loved most about him: the way he took in the world around him almost as a child might - with excitement and hope, passion and innocence and imagination.

His brother was the person Jin most loved in the entire, known Universe.

The second, was on that ship.

Jin hadn't spoken to _him_ in... years.

"Hyung?" Taehyung turned around, his brow quirking, an adorable pout on his lips. His dark, charcoal eyes were confused and concerned, darting across his older brother's face half-phased, as if he was listening for something.

Jin did his best to quieten his thoughts and feelings as much as possible. Not that it had much of an effect. Taehyung was a particularly gifted empath.

The boy quirked his head. "Really? We haven't seem Namjoon-hyung for like, almost four years. I'm sure there's nothing to stress about."

Seokjin froze, pulling at the collar of his uniform awkwardly. "It's _Captain Kim_ , now," he said. "He's not your 'hyung' anymore."

Taehyung shook his head, dark hair flopping around his face. "Ah, he'll always be my hyung."

"Careful, Tae," Seokjin warned.

Taehyung just rolled his eyes. "It's not as if he doesn't know you're coming on-board. He had to approve the crew manifest personally; he had the chance to request another Chief Medical Officer, but he didn't. He _wants_ you on board, Hyung, or you wouldn't have this assignment."

The elder smiled. Sometimes, looking at his smooth skin and pouty lips, Seokjin forgot that his brother wasn't a boy any longer; Taehyung had grown into a fine young-man, and an outstanding officer. He deserved this post - more than anyone - and Seokjin would be damned if he was going to ruin this for him. 

"You're probably right," he mused, forcing his foot to sit still beneath him. "I'm just being silly."

"Nah," Taehyung peeled himself away from the glass and slung an arm over Seokjin's broad shoulders. "I'd be nervous too if I was having a grand reunion with my _imzadi_."

Seokjin lit up, red like a tomato. "Don't -- d-don't call him that," he choked.

"Call him what? _Imzadi?"_ Taehyung wiggled his brows as Seokjin turned positively crimson.

 _"I will murder you,"_ Seokjin screeched telepathically.

" _Imzadiiiiiiiii,"_ Taehyung crooned inside his mind.

Seokjin's hands reached towards his throat, but his brother dodged him deftly, eyes crinkling at the corner, his mouth forming into a boxy grin so sweet that the elder almost forgot his rage.

_Almost._

Taehyung dodged another swipe. " _You can't hurt me_!" He giggled, throwing his hands across his face in mock terror. " _You took an oath!_ "

" _My medical oath has nothing to do with idiot dongsaengs who don't know their place_!"

Seokjin saw it happen first. He saw Taehyung backing unknowingly towards a small platform in the center of the ground. The younger had no idea what was happening when his heel caught against the raised edge, throwing him off balance as he cascaded quickly toward the floor. As if by brotherly instinct alone, Seokjin reached forward, hands wrapping around one of Taehyung's flailing arms in an attempt to halt his descent.

Unfortunately for the pair, it was too late. Taehyung was too far gone and Jin's intervention had no effect other than pulling the elder towards the ground alongside his younger brother. What was a slow motion catastrophe for the two was, in reality, nothing more than a blur, an awkward purple swirl, as two tall officers, one in red, one in blue, tumbled towards the ground in a mess of shouts and limbs.

Flat on his back, his brother's solid body crushing into him, Seokjin couldn't help but laugh.

Soon the pair were choking on the floor, tears streaming down their faces as they laughed at the mess.

Taehyung wiped at his wet face, smile bright and easy as always. " _I missed you, hyung_ ," he sniffed.

Seokjin smiled at his beautiful brother. " _I missed you too, Tae. I'm glad we get to do this together, for once."_

_"Five years - you and me, among the stars. Wont it be brilliant?"_

Jin smiled, reaching his hand out to ruffle his brother's soft hair. " _Of course it will."_ He thought, still grinning, cheeks a little flushed from laughing. " _As long as you don't keep shouting about my i--"_

"Jin?"

The doctor glanced up at the form standing above him.

His mouth (his traitorous fucking mouth) fell open.

"Imzadi," he breathed.

* * *

_"Imzadi."_

The word had fallen so easily out of Jin's lips as he sat there on the floor, eyes wide, cheeks flushed, plush lips as pink and as perfect as they always had been.

And to be honest, Namjoon felt like he'd been punched in the gut... or, stabbed in the heart, maybe.

Did your life flash before your eyes when you were dying? Namjoon must be dying, then, because everything came back to him, crisp and clear, as if it happened yesterday.

_His first year at the academy, awkward and uncomfortable: himself, a little to nerdy, a little too awkward and shy to make friends. It had been hard - he was young, anyway, and he'd skipped first year altogether, his aptitude tests being off the charts, as they had been. All the students had been cautious, or... jealous maybe. No one wanted to talk to him so he ate lunch in the library alone, face buried inside a text-book as he inhaled his lunch, struggling to turn the pages, push his glasses up the bridge of his nose, eat his sandwich, and periodically glance around him, to make sure his awkwardness wasn't garnering any unwanted attention._

_And then he'd met Jin. The boy had sat down at his table and turned the pages of his Klingon Syntax text-book without so much as a word. When Namjoon had looked up at him, eyes wide with panic, the other boy had simply smiled a perfect smile, warm and beautiful and kind and said, 'keep reading'. Since that day, Namjoon had clung to him like a lost tribble, following after Jin like a disciple might follow the word of God._

_They had been friends. Best, best friends. At first._

_Then, four years into his degree, things changed. Namjoon was twenty-one and Jin was twenty-four. Namjoon was tall and he'd grown into his features; he'd lost the puppy fat around his jaw, and his eyes and mind were sharp and he had a smile that dimpled his cheeks and the girls loved him. And he loved the girls. He really, really loved the girls. But not like he loved Jin. Never like he loved Jin._

_So, one night at the end of the semester, graduation just around the corner, and after one too many Andorian ales, Namjoon had leaned forward (blue lips and all) and kissed Seokjin square on the mouth._

_And Seokjin had kissed him back. Plush lips moving hotly against his own, tasting warm and sweet like the Samarian Sunset he'd been nursing all night. When they finally pulled apart Seokjin had gazed over at Namjoon, deep, black eyes glassy and lidded, and whispered 'imzadi' right through his mind._

_Namjoon might've been three weeks off his undergrad in xenolinguistics, but he'd had no idea what the word meant._

**_Imzadi_ **

**_Betazoid | noun_ **

**_(pronounced em-ZAH-dee)_ **

**_"first"; signifies the first person with whom one has shared not only physical intimacy, but spiritual as well._ **

_**Synonyms - Federation Standard: beloved; soulmate; first-love** _

_Namjoon had read the definition over twelve times before he pulled on a jacket, not caring to check his hair, and raced across the substantial campus to Starfleet Medical._

_That night he and Seokjin had made such passionate love that Namjoon had cried._

But that was many, many years ago, before everything fell apart.

"I-I mean c-captain, Captain N-na -- C-captain K-kim!"

 _Don't call me that. Don't ever call me anything but Imzadi. I'm you're Imzadi and you're mine,_ is what Namjoon wanted to say.

What he said, instead, was: "Uh, yes, Doctor Kim, hi, it's, i-it's been a while..."

Jin just stared up at him, eyes wide.

_Fuck, can he hear my thoughts? He promised he'd never listen to my thoughts witho --_

"He's not listening to your thoughts," someone said. "Stop panicking, Hyung, you're giving me a headache."

Namjoon's eyes flitted across to take in the handsome, raven haired officer also on the floor at Jin's side.

His brows shot, practically, through his hair line. "Taehyung? Kim Taehyung?"

"Reporting for duty, sir!" A grin so huge it raised Namjoon's spirits spread across the young-mans face. "Request to be helped up off the damn floor, sir!"

This shook Namjoon out of his daze. "Oh, oh sh - I mean, yeah, yeah of course! Here," Namjoon held out his hand, and Taehyung took it without a second thought.

When the younger man was on his feet, pulling his uniform straight and brushing the back of his hair flat, Namjoon reached forward tentatively, and held his hand out for Jin.

The doctor watched the young captain for a moment as a pink flush spread across his cheeks.

Realistically, Namjoon wanted to fall to his knees, wrap his arms around _his_ Jin and breathe in his cake-batter scent. He missed the smell of him so badly. He missed eating cream-cake for dinner and pastry for breakfast - all home cooked by Jin, who watched him adorably, waist pressed against the kitchen counter as he flipped pancakes, dancing horribly to whatever music was lilting through his apartment.

Seokjin was the only person in this world who was a worse dancer than Namjoon. It never stopped him though. He loved to dance, so he danced.

The memory of it made Namjoon want to cry.

Carefully, Jin reached forward and placed a clammy hand inside Namjoon's.

It was almost the most painful thing the young captain had ever felt in his life and yet, letting go, when the doctor was firmly on his feet, was the hardest thing he'd ever done.

"Thanks," Jin mumbled.

"You're welcome," _You're welcome, Imzadi._

It was quiet for a horrible moment, as they watched each-other.

Jin was, for lack of any sort of human eloquence, the most beautiful thing Namjoon had ever fucking seen in his entire goddamn life. He had the deep, charcoal irises that were standard among the Betazoid people, but they were warm, somehow, despite their inky-black, and they sparkled with secrets and love and humor in a way that made Namjoon feel a little bit queasy. He had a sharp jaw, and high cheek-bones, though the flesh of his face was soft and clear and plump. His lips - goddamn those fucking lips - were beyond understanding. Namjoon liked to consider himself a man of science, but when it came to Jin's lips... something told him _those_ were a gift from a higher power.

The doctor's hair was thick and raven and uncommonly straight for his people. Namjoon knew the longer Seokjin let it grow, the more it misbehaved, revealing him as the full-blooded Betazoid he was. The last time Namjoon had seen him it'd been longer, curling around the nape of his neck, flopping adorably onto his forehead in cherub-style ringlets. Now, it was cropped. Though his fringe was longer, resting against his sharp, straight brows, the back and sides were short and clean.

He looked... different.

Good, but different.

Taehyung shifted uncomfortably causing Jin to whip around, eyes wide with worry.

"Are you okay, Tae?"

The younger rubbed a hand against his temple. "Yeah, of course." He laughed in a strained sort of way. "It's just intense, but it's fine. I feel fine."

Namjoon watched the exchange with a weird sort of separation.

Standing in front of him were two people he knew so well... at least, he _used_ to know them. He'd spent the summer of Taehyung's eighteenth birthday on Betazed; he'd met Jin's parents - his father, and stepmother, both of them ambassadors for the Federation. He knew about Taehyung's difficulties with his empathic abilities; he'd seen the boy practically lose his mind during his first year at the Academy. They'd worked on it together. Namjoon had joined a meditation class to help - to keep him company.

In a way, he felt the same instinct as Seokjin. That instinct to reach out towards his younger friend; press a hand against his arm to steady him, fuss all over him as if he was his own flesh and blood. But he couldn't do that anymore, could he? Taehyung wasn't a kid anymore - so much had changed. He was tall, practically the same height as Jin. His nose was no longer too big for his face, and his eyes were more focused than Namjoon remembered.

Frankly, the kid - the _man_ \- was gorgeous. Namjoon felt proud in a way, as his eyes flashed over Taehyung's features. He had the same inky eyes and dark hair as Jin; though his features were softer, and his skin a little bit darker, his jaw was still _sharp_ and his cheekbones still high. The Betazoid/human genes had not done wrong by Taehyung. God, watching them now Namjoon felt a little nervous. It was a five-year mission and the Kim brothers had the kind of faces that caused _trouble_ on a small starship.

"Seriously, Hyung, back-off. I'm _fine."_ Taehyung gave Seokjin a sharp, _deep_ look, and Namjoon assumed he'd had telepathic words with the doctor, out of human earshot.

Jin looked back at his brother tersely and Taehyung moved his head, an almost imperceptible nod.

"Um," Namjoon cleared his throat. "Is everything alright?"

Taehyung perked up quickly. "Yeah, Captain! Of course. Wow, that's so weird - calling you captain, huh? You've been to my birthday parties."

Namjoon smiled, and reached out to pat Taehyung on the shoulder. "It's fine, Tae, when we're not on duty you can axe the Captain."

"Seriously, hyung?!"

"Seriously."

"Tae," Seokjin warned, eyes towards the ground.

"Shh, Hyung."

Namjoon rubbed his neck awkwardly. "So, how -- how've you been?" He directed the question at no one in particular, half hoping that Seokjin wouldn't answer - half hoping that he _would_.

"Great!" Taehyung preened. "I made Lieutenant, as you can see," he pointed at the two pins against his neck, wiggling his finger for emphasis.

"I heard, Taehyung-ah. Congratulations, that's incredible."

"Ah," the pilot waved his hand through the air. "'s nothing."

"Absolutely not true," Namjoon laughed. "It's pretty amazing, Tae. I'm really proud of you."

The young lieutenant lit up like a Christmas tree at the praise. Namjoon buried a croon deep inside his chest. "And you, Doctor?" He asked, his throat closing so he could barely breathe. "How are you?"

"I'm well, Captain." He smiled, though he looked sad. "I'm very well."

"Good -- that's, uh, really good to hear."

Another bout of silence so thick Namjoon thought he might choke on it.

"The ship!" Taehyung yelled suddenly, thankfully. "The ship, how's the ship!"

"The ship?" Namjoon grinned. He couldn't help the blush that spread across his cheeks at the mention of the ship. His ship. "NCC-97812, USS Triptych - Nebula class - flies like a dream, comfortable Captains chair. All she needs is a pilot."

"A pilot, you say?" Taehyung's brows quirked.

"Mmm," Namjoon mused. "She's got a scared little Ensign at the helm, right now. Smart kid buuuut y'know, could use a little work."

A grin spread across the lieutenant's face. "That just won't do Captain. Can't leave my ship in the hands of an Ensign!"

Namjoon frowned. "Oh it's your ship, is it?"

"I mean -- I mean _your_ ship, sir, my _helm,_ though."

Namjoon laughed, reaching forward to ruffle Taehyung's hair (was it still okay for him to do things like that?)

"Alright, I'll give you that one. Your helm."

Namjoon was watching Taehyung beam when his communicator chirped.

"Go for Captain," he said, winking at Taehyung who clenched his fists and whooped silently in approval.

"C-captain, sir, hello, you asked to be alerted when Commander Min arrived at Jupiter Station, sir?"

"Yes, that's right," Namjoon nodded.

"Sir, he's just arrived aboard the Enterprise, sir. They should be boarding the station shortly through dock E4, level 80, Captain."

"Very good, Ensign. Thank you, Captain out."

"Thank you, sir, Ensign out."

"Waaaaah," Taehyung breathed after a moment of awed silence. "Hyung, you're so cool."

Completely out of his control, the tips of Namjoon's ears turned pink. When his eyes accidentally locked with Seokjin's, he almost saw pride in there somewhere.

"You are very cool," Seokjin said quietly.

Namjoon would've creamed his pants if not for the edge of sadness in his ex-lovers tone. The young-captain just rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, and glanced away.

"I should go," he said. "Have to go pick up a certain First Officer."

"Commander Min," the doctor mused. "No chance it's Min Yoongi, is it?"

"It is," Namjoon smiled warmly.

Seokjin was still for a moment, but a grin, eventually, spread across his face. "Wow - is this ship just your graduating class, or something?"

Namjoon laughed, ears still crimson. "Feels a bit that way. Chief Engineer's the same year as I am - we never met at the Academy, though."

"Amazing," Jin's eyes were warm and amused and it was making it difficult for Namjoon to continue existing.

Maybe he did look different. Maybe his hair was shorter and his eyes were older and little bit more cautious than they had been in Namjoon's memory. But it was still Jin. His Jin. And they were about to depart on a five year, deep-space mission together.

Fuck, that was terrifying.

Fuck, it was _exciting_.

Taehyung was pulling on Jin's arm. "Hyung, seriously, let the nice Captain go so I can get onboard my - er - _your_ ship, sir." The young lieutenant glanced nervously at Namjoon, who smiled at him incredulously. He pulled harder on the sleeve of his brother's uniform. "Let's. Go. I need to see her, Hyung. Need to feel her cool exterior under my warm hands --"

"Alright, Jesus, can you stop sexualizing the ship? Maybe she doesn't wanna be sexualized?!"

"Hyung, she's calling me. She's literally whispering my name. _'Taehyung', 'Taehyunggggg'_ she says. So let's just, fucking, go, can we?"

Seokjin glanced nervously at Namjoon, relaxing some when he saw his amused expression. "Permission to board, Captain?"

"Permission granted." Namjoon nods, and Taehyung beams. "Try not to get into any trouble before I'm back on-board."

"Sir, yes, sir!" Taehyung salutes Namjoon, face and body stiff as a board.

"Alright, alright," Namjoon breathed. "At ease, already." He cleared his throat awkwardly. "It was nice to see you. Both of you. We'll talk more when I'm on board." He couldn't help but look Jin straight in the eye as he said those words.

Jin nodded, and smiled tightly. "Okay," he said.

The young Captain couldn't help but gaze after the pair as they stalked away, though he'd already turned his back when the Doctor peered over his shoulder, tears pricking his eyes.

* * *

 

Commander Min Yoongi was a man of logic.

That's why he found it so... irritating... nay... _perplexing_ (he was a half-Vulcan, after all, he didn't _feel_ irritation) when he came across things - people - which defied logic.

Like the young-boy stood in front of him. Lieutenant Park Jimin - plump lipped, rosy cheeked, shorter, even, than the Commander himself. This... _man_... if Yoongi could call him that, was the Triptych's new Head of Security. He was in charge of keeping everyone (everyone!!) on-board safe. This tiny, tiny, pint-sized human, who looked more like a doll than a man, was supposed to keep an entire Starship out of harm's way.

(That's 750 crew members, up to 130 guests; cats, dogs, fish, plants, and billions upon billions of credits worth of top-spec equipment) All under the protection of this little... _cupcake_?

The lieutenant's hand shot out from his side, and Yoongi grasped it without pause.

What followed was a handshake so firm that the Commander had to physically suppress his cringe. 

"Lieutenant Park Jimin reporting for duty, Sir! I'll be joining under your Command as Chief of Security, Sir!"

Now that was an illogically fierce introduction for such a cute human being.

"Thank you, Lieutenant, at ease."

The young officer released Yoongi, his legs falling apart and his hands tucking behind his back in the least at-east 'at-ease' Yoongi had seen in his entire career.

"How old are you?" Yoongi deadpanned. He hadn't meant to ask, really, but curiosity had gotten the better of him.

"Twenty-Four years old, Sir!"

A baby, then.

"I see," Yoongi drawled. "You _are_ qualified to fill this position, yes?"

"Yes, Sir! Starfleet Academy Graduating Class of 2366, summa cum laude, Sir!"

"Your area of focus?"

"Tactical Analysis with a focus on Advanced Hand-to-Hand Combat, Sir! I also wrote my post-graduate thesis on Advanced Subspace Weaponry, Sir!"

Yoongi made a pretty sad attempt at not raising his brows. "You have a doctorate?"

"Yes, Sir!"

"How old did you say you were?"

"Twenty-Four, Sir!"

"I see."

Yoongi hadn't intended to question the Lieutenant further when the young officer opened his mouth and practically _shouted_ : "I also carry Starfleet's Medal of Valor, Sir!"

Had the kid's lips quirked  at the corner?

Yoongi was, for only the third time in his entire existence, about to lose his composure.

"Yoongi-hyung!" A familiar voice called to him, and Yoongi cringed slightly at the sight of his friend, a _captain_ , jumping up and down, waving his long arm above his head with a smile, warm enough to cure disease, plastered across his face.

The young Lieutenant turned at the sound, and Yoongi took a private moment to swipe his hand across his neck three times and furiously mouth _'cut it out'_ to his overly excited friend. Namjoon stopped jumping immediately, his face falling into a passive, unreadable mask.

 _Captain face_ , Yoongi thought. _So **that** is what he has chosen as his Captain face. _

"Oh my God," the Lieutenant whispered, low enough that if Yoongi had been anything but half-Vulcan, as he was, he wouldn't have heard. "That's the captain."

"Correct," Yoongi mused and tried to convince himself that the flush that passed across the young-Lieutenant's face, at being caught out, was _not_ satisfying at all.

The kid became suddenly serious, turning on his heel and standing to attention, chest puffed out like a little bird.

When Namjoon reached the two, the young Lieutenant _bowed_ : "Lieutenant Park Jimin, Chief of Security, reporting for duty, Sir!"

Namjoon just laughed softly, a warm smile crossing his features. "At ease, Lieutenant, good to see you've made it here safely. And you've met Yoongi-hyu -- I mean, uh, Commander Min, I see?"

The Lieutenant straightened up, falling back into his not-so-at-ease 'at-ease'. "Yes Sir! I have introduced myself, sir, and request permission to board the Triptych and take my station, Sir!"

Namjoon's brows raised imperceptibly. "That's very eager of you, Lieutenant." The Captain waited for a response that never came. He pursed his lips. "Well, I don't see why not. See if you can't introduce yourself to some of the Bridge Crew. I understand you might already be acquainted with out pilot - Lieutenant Kim Taehyung?"

Yoongi didn't miss the way the Security Officer's features softened with surprise, and visibly _warmed_.

"Taehyung, sir? Kim Taehyung? Half-betazoid, head-in-the-clouds, best-pilot-in-the-known-universe-past-and-present-Kim-Taehyung, sir?!"

"The very same," Namjoon raised his eyebrows playfully. "I guess you _do_ know him, then."

"Oh yes, sir! I do! He was my best friend in the Academy sir, but we haven't seen each-other in _years!"_

The Lieutenant's whole body physically relaxed.

And then: he **_smiled_** , and Yoongi was seriously wondering how in the Greater Universe's name he could expect a literal  _cherub_ to protect the ship.

Then, after three seconds of beaming, the young Lieutenant's body returned to it's rigid, stick-like state. "Permission to board the Triptych, sir?"

Yoongi noticed he couldn't quite hide the excitement that had taken root inside his eyes.

"Granted," Namjoon grinned. "My _First Officer_ and I have some business to take care of aboard the station, but please let the bridge crew know: have the ship ready to depart at 1600 hours, on the dot, Lieutenant."

"Yes Captain, sir!"

Namjoon laughed again. "Alright, then, dismissed."

"Thank you, sir!" And then the kid was gone, stalking off in the other direction.

"Wow," Namjoon mused after a moment of silence. "He's intense."

Yoongi pulled his lips in a line, brow quirking quizzically. "He is young," he observed dryly.

Namjoon coughed. "We're young, Hyung."

"Not that young," Yoongi drawled.

"Neither of _us_ , carry a Medal of Valor, either."

"He told me about that," the commander deadpanned.

"Did he tell you how he got it?" His friend asked.

Yoongi shook his head; Namjoon's eyes widened, and the Commander sensed there was a story coming.

"He's like, six days out of the Academy, right? Carted off to Wolf 359, awaiting assignment, when the Borg strike. Everyone's dropping dead around him - all the other graduates he knows: kidnapped, turned into fucking drones. The kid spends six days crawling through a Jeffries Tube saving whoever he can, collecting this group of survivors, yeah? Figures out, with no outside information, that the Borg wont attack him unless he poses a threat - didn't even take a _class_ on the Borg at the Academy! So he just hides all these people inside the Jeffries Tubes, moving them around, watching the Borg, going on wild recon missions alone, searching for supplies and survivors and shit. In the end, when the carnage is over, the kid's saved like... thirteen people, or something! Eight civilians and five officers! When the recovery crews find him he knocks out three heavily armed-officers, thinking they're Borg, before he realizes the battles _over_ and he can finally fucking _relax._ When they ask him what the fuck he was thinking he says "I just followed protocol, sir!" Like... what fucking protocol is _he_ referencing? As far as I know the primary protocol involving the Borg is fucking: evacuate!"

"Not entirely accurate," Yoongi responds. His tone is cold and uninterested, but on the inside, deep, deep down, he's reeling.

"So yeah, fuck. His commanding officer puts him up for Medal of Valor and of course the kid fucking gets it. Deserved it, too; Jesus, can you imagine what he went through?" Namjoon shakes his head incredulously. "Anyway, since then he's had difficulty finding a permanent posting. Just gets fidgety, y'know? Apparently he can be a bit of a handful. I figured he might do well on our ship. He's young, he's strong - we're supposed to be a vessel of pioneers, y'know? Not sure how much more pioneering you can get, right?"

Yoongi nodded slowly. "I cannot disagree."

Namjoon turned to the commander, features lighting up. "Jesus, Hyung! I just realized we haven't seen each-other in like, five months!"

Yoongi could see it coming, but he knew better, after all these years, than to try and resist.

Namjoon hugged him, and he let it happen.

"Man, I've missed you, Hyung. I feel on edge without you, y'know?"

"Well, then I suppose it is in your favor that we will be spending the next five years together in deep space."

"Ahhh, Hyung, try not to look so tense!"

"I am _not_ tense, Captain. This is simply my face, sir."

Namjoon grimaced. "Please don't start that. Can't you just call me Namjoon when no one else is around?"

Yoongi quirked his brow. "Is that an order, sir?"

Namjoon deadpanned. "If that's what it's gonna take then, sure, it's an order, Hyung."

"I suppose I must comply then, Namjoon-ah."

The younger-man shoots Yoongi his award winning smile, and despite himself, the Commander felt the corner of his lips quirk upward.

Namjoon froze. "Oh my God, Hyung! Did you just -- did you just _smile,_ Hyung!?"

The Vulcan's face returned to it's passive state in less than a blink of an eye. "A smile would require me to feel happiness or amusement; as a Vulcan I am incapable of either - therefore, the logical conclusion, is to assume that it was simply a trick of the light. Put simply: you are seeing things, Namjoon. You should consider visiting a doctor."

The younger-man rolled his eyes and let out a long, exasperated breath. "Speaking of doctors..."

"You've reunited with Doctor Kim, I assume, by your expression."

"Yep," Namjoon popped the 'p' at the end of the word.

"And?" Yoongi queried.

"And nothing," Namjoon finished. "It was uncomfortable, and awkward, and I feel like I'm twenty-three again and I don't know what to do with my hands."

The Commander shrugged. "You are not twenty-three and you seem to have perfect control over your extremities. I fear you are over-reacting, Namjoon-ah."

"Oh yeah," the Captain raised a sluggish brow. "How so?"

"You have no reason to expect anything short of absolute professionalism from Doctor Kim. I perused his record - he is well respected in his field - he could have chosen any posting. The fact that he accepted a position aboard the Triptych means that he must not harbor any ill-will, or negative feelings towards yourself or the 'incident'. It was a long time ago, Namjoon-ah; as your friend, and First Officer, I suggest you leave it in the past where it belongs - for the good of yourself, Doctor Kim, and our five year expedition."

Namjoon watched his friend with a tired expression. "I hate it when you go all logical on me, Hyung."

"I am a Vulcan," Yoongi continued. "Logic is my culture and my creed; if you truly 'hate it', as you say, then, logically, you must _also_ hate me."

"Please shut up, you're giving me a head-ache."

"Is that an order, sir?"

"Yes."

Yoongi shut his mouth.

Namjoon rolled his eyes. "Order rescinded," he said with a huff. "What's the time? We have a meeting with Admiral Picard at 1430 hours. I'll kill myself if we're late - that man is my fucking idol, Hyung."

"It is 1420 hours, sir," Yoongi responded.

"How do you even know that? You didn't even check."

"I simply, 'know', sir."

"Alright, well, let's get going, then. I wanna get this show on the road."

"Yes, sir."

"Stop fucking calling me _'sir'_. I'll court martial you for disregarding orders."

"Yes, si -- _Namjoon-ah."_

* * *

 

Before he sits down in the chair, Namjoon is _nervous._

But then his body connects with the plush leather, his small command panel cool underneath his fingertips, and he feels _home._

He knows he lacks experience. He knows he'll make countless mistakes. He knows there's probably a thousand people who could do this better than he can.

It doesn't change anything. This is Namjoon's ship. In front of him, beside him, sits _his_ crew. Though he doesn't know all of them personally - though there's still hundreds of faces and name's that he's yet to commit to memory - he also knows that there's not one person on-board who wouldn't give their life for him. He knows that, without a second thought, he would do the same for each and every member of his team.

With that in mind, he realizes that this is it. His dream, finally, is a reality. Years of blood, sweat and tears - years of study, years of training - have all lead up to this moment.

He might not be _ready_ , but who is - really? Who's ready to dive head-first into the unknown?

So maybe - just maybe - he doesn't need to be _ready._ Maybe not everything needs to be a sure thing.

He has his best friend at his side and the trust of his most beloved Starfleet at his back.

A ghost from his past had looked at him and, despite everything - despite the awful things he'd said and done - he'd looked _proud_.

And that's enough. That's more than enough.

"Alright," Namjoon says, voice strong and steady. "Bridge Crew: I want a roll-call. Lord knows what's waiting for us out there, I wanna know who I'm facing it with - so sound off. And forget your ranks they don't matter."

The crew look between each-other, electricity brewing in the air as the reality descends. Namjoon looks across at his bestest friend in the world, fire brewing in his eyes.

"Min Yoongi," his first officer starts them off, and fuck it - to Namjoon's ears he sounds _excited._

The rest follow:

"Jung Hoseok,"

"Park Jimin,"

"Kim Taehyung,"

"Jeon Jungkook,"

And then a voice, through the intercom and thick with emotion:

"Kim Seokjin, reporting from sick-bay."

Namjoon could cry, if he let himself. But he doesn't, he just squares his shoulders, and sits forward in his seat.

"Kim Namjoon," he says, finishing the roll-call. The smiles passed between his senior officers makes everything fucking worth it. "We've got a job to do, ladies and gentlemen, and I'll be damned if we don't hop to it. Helm -"

"Yes, sir!"

"Plot a course: 134 mark 30."

Taehyung's long fingers dance across the helm. "Course laid-in, sir."

"Alright," the Captain shares one, long glance with his First Officer - his best friend - at his side.

Then, he lifts his hand in the air.

"Let's get it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wooohoooo whaddya thinkkkkk??? Let me know!
> 
> Love,
> 
> Mussells


	3. Categorize the Exchange

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This Chapter is based on an episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation! S02E02: Where Silence has Lease
> 
> It's one of my all-time favourites!
> 
> I hope you enjoy this Chapter!!!
> 
> *hearteuuuu*
> 
> Some terms ya might need to google: psilosynine; tricorder; hypospray; Kolinhar; Vulcan emotional history lmfao

_"Captains-Log, Stardate 42193.6_

_We're on a long reach towards the Miranda Quadrant: a section of the galaxy which has yet to be visited by a manned Federation vessel. We're using the time to further detail the charts of this region."_

Namjoon quirks his head as he watches Yoongi lick curiously at the sides of his mouth. The Commander leans over the science-station, eyes squinting, a tiny little line of flesh appearing between his brows.

"There it is again, sir," Ensign Jeon points at the display, finger hovering over the left quadrant of the screen. "I really thought I was seeing things... but it seems to just re-appear and disappear. There's no predictable pattern; no sequence, sir"

The Commander cocks his head.

"Well?" Namjoon asks, eyes grazing across his First Officer as he waits for an explanation.

"The Ensign is correct, Captain."

Namjoon grimaces. "Can you elaborate? What do the sensors say?"

"Nothing, sir." Yoongi states, clear and concise.

"I'm sorry?"

"The sensors indicate: nothing, Captain."

Now it's Namjoon's turn to squint at the display. "You mean that it's empty of _matter_ , Commander?  There always has to be some energy-form at work..."

Yoongi shakes his head. "Negative, sir. Our sensors are showing this to be the absence of everything: it seems to be a void without matter or energy of any kind."

Namjoon opens his mouth to argue, but the young-ensign speaks first. "We're in visual range, sir. I can show it on the display, if you want?"

The Captain nods. "Sure, Mr Jeon. On-screen."

The Ensign's hands swipe across the panel in front of him; the computer chimes and the three officers turn to view the main screen.

"I can't see anything," Namjoon says.

"That may be the point, Captain," Yoongi drawls and Namjoon shoots him a bored expression.

"I can zoom-in, sir?" The Ensign offers.

"Go head."

The display shifts slightly, and there, in the middle of the screen, is a strange sort of distortion. Namjoon can see far of stars, twinkling lazily on the display - far off quadrants yet to be traversed or discovered. And then, in the center, just... nothing: a mass of empty screen, black, like a malfunction. The sight makes Namjoon's right eye twitch. There's something there, for sure, if only in that _nothing_ is there at all.

"Well, I can _see_ it," the Captain grimaces. "It has form: it has height, it has width --"

Yoongi shrugs. "Maybe," he offers. "Maybe not."

Namjoon lets out an exasperated sigh. "How very scientific of you," he glances at his First Officer out of the corner of his eye.

The Commander simply quirks his brow, quizzically, and Namjoon mentally prepares himself to be schooled, Vulcan-style, in front of the majority of his senior staff.

"Captain," Yoongi begins, expression and tone bored as if he can't  _believe_ he has to explain himself. "The most elementary, and valuable statement in science - the beginning of wisdom, one might suggest - is: 'I do not know'. To say any different, would be a lie, Sir. As I am a Vulcan, and Vulcans do not lie, the most logical course of action - the only course of action - is to tell you, plainly," Yoongi nods towards the monitor. "I do not know what that is, sir."

With great, great effort, Namjoon suppresses the urge to roll his eyes into his skull.

"Sir," the young Ensign begins. "If this were any ordinary hole in space, Captain - like, a wormhole, for example - wouldn't we be able to see what's behind it, sir? Should we send a probe, maybe?"

The captain locks eyes with his First Officer.

"That may be prudent, Captain," Yoongi offers.

Namjoon shifts around and throws a wink in the young Ensign's direction. "Good one, Mr Jeon!" The kid beams, and Namjoon feels all parental.

"We'll need to get closer."

"Lieutenant Kim: slow to half-impulse power. Adjust coordinates to intercept the... anomaly," Yoongi finishes, brow quirking.

Taehyung perks up in his seat. "Yes sir. Slowing to half-impulse. Adjusting to intercept in... thirteen minutes, sir."

"Great; cool!" Namjoon says before swatting himself internally. What kind of fucking captain uses the word 'cool'?

"Recommend we summon Doctor Kim to the bridge, Captain," Yoongi suggests. "We may have use for his telepathic abilities, sir."

Taehyung swivels around in his seat, opening his mouth, before closing it again.

"What is it, Mr Kim?" Namjoon asks his pilot.

The young Lieutenant looks nervous, but he clears his throat and speaks. "It's just... you don't need Ji -- I mean, _Doctor Kim,_ " he says. "Though I'm only empathic, sir, my range and abilities are stronger. I can sense no consciousness, at all. There's nothing out there, sir."

"You are certain of this, Lieutenant?" Yoongi comes to stand beside the helm.

"Yes. At this time, sir. There's nothing out there."

Namjoon tries not to be disappointed that he has no reason to bring Jin to the bridge. Instead, he straightens his uniform and returns to the Captain's chair.

After what feels like a long ten minutes, Namjoon stands up. "ETA, Mr Kim?"

"We should be coming into range now, sir."

Yoongi appears at Namjoon's side. "Ensign Jeon, please launch a class-one probe: full sensors."

"Yes, Commander."

There computer chirps in confirmation as the young Ensign launches the probe. Everyone waits with bated breath.

After a long moment, when his youngest officer offers no further comment, Namjoon turns to the science-station. "Report, Mr Jeon."

"I- I would, sir, except there's nothing here..."

"Explain," Yoongi's brow quirks.

"It's the probe, sir -- well... there _is_ no probe, Captain. At least, not according to the sensors."

"Sorry? Come again?" Namjoon feels a deep frown pull at his forehead.

"Though the ship's log suggests that we have _launched_ a probe, sir, the sensors are receiving no data. It's as if it was... destroyed, sir... as if it's disappeared."

The Captain clicks his tongue. "Can you confirm for me, Commander Min?"

His first officer returns to the science station and, peering over the Ensign's shoulder, lets out a long breath. "He is correct, sir. We are receiving no telemetry on either short or long range sensors."

"How is that possible?" Namjoon asks tersely. Frankly, he's getting a little annoyed.

His First Officer returns to his side. "I do no --"

"Don't tell me you don't know, please."

"Then I must say nothing, sir," Yoongi offers, instead.

This time, Namjoon _does_ roll his eyes.

"If I may, sir," Ensign Jeon shifts in his seat and Namjoon nods in approval, urging him to continue. "Navigation suggests that we aren't at the outer limit of the anomaly. We _could_ move closer. It's possible that the main sensors could get a clear reading where the probe failed, sir?"

Namjoon sighs. "It's as good an idea as any," he muses. "Make it so, Ensign."

The young-man clear his throat, quietly leaving his seat and moving to stand beside Taehyung, at the helm. "Um," he looks down at the pilot, who grins up at him kindly. The kid's ears turn red. "Um, can you move us to -- " he leans over the helm, inputting a set of coordinates. Though his voice sounds nervous, his fingers are steady and sure. "One-quarter impulse should do."

Taehyung's grin doubles in size and Namjoon notices the Ensign's face and neck light up.

"One-quarter impulse," the pilot repeats. His fingers brush against the younger officer's who pulls away as if he's been burned, stalking back to the empty science station with an unreadable expression.

Namjoon doesn't have time to contemplate the exchange, unfortunately.

"How are we, Mr Kim?"

"All good, sir. Approaching coordinates."

"Great. Full-stop."

"Aye, sir."

"How's it looking, Mr Jeon?"

Silence, from the young officer.

Namjoon turns to the back of the Bridge. "Mr Jeon?"

"I - I don't know what happened, sir." Panic edges in the Ensign's voice.

He waits a moment. "Report, Ensign," he says firmly.

"Sir, I - I was - I don't --"

Namjoon huffs. "Commander could you please --"

But Yoongi's already peering over the Ensign's shoulder. "It appears we are inside the anomaly, sir."

"Inside?!" Namjoon's brows shoot upward. "How?"

"Perhaps the Ensign miscalculated, sir..."

"No," Taehyung swivels around to face the rest of the bridge. "He didn't. I checked the coordinates myself - they were correct."

"And yet we are still inside the anomaly, Captain." If Namjoon didn't know him better, he might believe his First Officer was... _irritated._

This is... not good. Namjoon's only been in command of the Triptych for two weeks. Though the crew gets along well enough - though the ship seems to be in fine working order - everyone still feels out of phase with one-another. One of the aspects of space-travel that Namjoon enjoys best is the feeling of family within a crew; of everyone being an equal and working cog in a greater machine. But it was still too soon for that. He needed more time with this team - his team. Needed to prove to them that the five-years of their lives they'd committed to this journey are not going to waste: are not in vain.

Getting lost in a mysterious, black void in space is simply  not a fucking option, right now.

"Alright, Lieutenant Kim, full-reverse. Get us out of here."

"Yes sir, full-reverse."

A voice from behind him: "I'm so sorry Captain." Ensign Jeon sounds small and scared and _young_.

Damn, Namjoon is suddenly keenly aware of how young this kid is.

"It's not your fault, Jungkook. Taehyung said he confirmed your telemetry. I believe him. You should too."

The captain turns to make eye contact with his youngest officer, sending him what he _hopes_ is a reassuring gaze.

The Ensign's shoulders seem to relax, some. "Yes, sir. Thank you, Captain."

"Don't mention it -- Taehyung, what's our position?"

"Uh," the Lieutenants long fingers whip across the helm. He clicks his tongue, presses against a number of controls  before sighing, long and hard. "From what I can tell, sir, we're still inside the anomaly." 

"How is that possible?"

"I don't know, Captain."

"Okay, the next person to tell me they _'don't know'_ is literally getting flicked in the head. For goodness sake, turn us one-eighty-degrees and take us to warp two, Lieutenant."

"Yes, Captain! Warp Two."

Namjoon hears the engines engage and the comforting, familiar feeling of zipping into warp envelopes the bridge.

"Okay, well, that's positive. Report - what's our position?"

Everyone holds their breath.

Taehyung huffs. "I can't say, sir. We're -- we're still inside the anomaly."

"Fuck me," Namjoon breathes. "Commander Jung, come-in."

The computer chirps and the voice of the Triptych's chief engineer fills the bridge. "Jung here, sir."

"Are you aware of the situation, Mr Jung?"

"Yes I am, sir."

"Is there something wrong with the engines, Chief?"

A moment of silence on the other end of the line. "Not as far as I can tell, cap. I've been monitoring our velocity closely: we _are_ traveling at warp two, sir."

Namjoon shakes his head, concern mounting inside his chest. "We should be seeing stars by now."

"Inertial guidance shows 1.4 parsecs traveled, Captain." Taehyung's fingers linger against the helm, his head shaking in disbelief.

"Ugh, bring us to full-stop, Lieutenant. Mr Jung could you get up here, please? Ensign, transfer engineering to a free bridge-station."

"You got it, cap."

"Yes, sir."

Namjoon scratches a finger against his temple. "Yoongi, I need you at science. Can you relieve the Ensign."

The Commander steps down from the First Officer's seat and rounds to the science station at the rear of the bridge.

Ensign Jeon slinks past the commander, unable to make eye-contact. "Should I leave the Bridge, sir?" He addresses the captain.

Namjoon's face scrunches as he turns to face his youngest officer. "Absolutely not, Ensign. Go take a seat at the conn - you were Nova Squadron at the academy, right? I have a feeling we're all gonna need a second pair of eyes on navigation if we're ever gonna make it out of this."

Jungkook smiles coyly, whispering a quiet 'yes, sir' as he slips into the seat next to Taehyung.

The Lieutenant leans across the helm: "You were Nova Squadron?" He asks the younger-officer.

"Y-yes, sir," Jungkook whispers.

"What position?"

"C-captain, s-sir."

Taehyung shoots the boy his boxiest smile. "Same," he says, holding out a closed fist for Jungkook, who bumps his own against the pilot's with a sheepish grin. "So dope."

Despite the situation, Namjoon can't help but smile. The exchange between two of his youngest officers is exactly what he's looking for. If his crew is bonding, then maybe a few hours spent in a mysterious void in space isn't too bad after all.

As long as they can get out, that is.

There's a chime at the conn and, peeling his gaze away from Taehyung, Jungkook leans forward with sharp eyes.

"S-sir, I'm seeing a reading that I don't understand."

"What's new?" Namjoon huffs in annoyance. "What have you got, Jungkook?"

"Sir, according to sensors there's a federation starship approaching. NCC-72015 --"

"Isn't that the Sutherland?" Taehyung queries.

"Correct," Yoongi sounds from the rear of the bridge. "One of our sister vessels."

The turbo-lift opens and Lieutenant-Commander Jung steps onto the bridge. "My sister serves on the Sutherland," he says, his usually chirpy features clouding over. "They're nowhere near this quadrant, sir." The chief takes a seat next to Yoongi, the engineering station flickering to life under his fingertips.

"Life signs?" Namjoon asks, turning to his First Officer.

"None, sir."

"Fuck, seriously? What the fuck is going on?"

"Request permission to board the vessel, sir?" The Triptych's Chief of Security speaks up for the first time. "Perhaps there are answers on board that ship."

"It can't be the Sutherland," Commander Jung repeats.

"Precisely," the security officer remarks.

Namjoon sighs. "If this were any other situation I'd say absolutely-fucking-not, but I'm seriously running out of options here." He eyes his security officer. "Grab a phaser - meet me in transporter room three."

Yoongi stands up from his station. "May I remind you, sir, that it is against protocol for the ship's captain to lead away missions."

Fuck. Sometimes Namjoon hates his best-friend with a burning passion.

"I will go with Lieutenant Park," the Vulcan Commander offers, instead. "It seems more prudent-a-mission for a Science-Officer, anyway. Logically, your proficiency in xenolinguistics will not be of much use on a ship with no-one to talk to, sir."

Namjoon just blinks. _Seriously, Hyung?_ He thinks to himself.

"With your permission, of course?" Yoongi quirks his brow, watching Namjoon with mild disinterest.

The captain huffs. "Yes, fine. Go. Permission granted. Try not to get yourselves killed - that's an order."

"Yes, sir." Yoongi nods, turning to the Security Chief. "Grab a phaser and meet me in Transporter-Room Three at your earliest convenience."

* * *

 

He's said it before and he'll say it again. Yoongi was a man of logic. As the minutes passed he was growing more and more irritated - nay, _perplexed -_ at how this whole situation seemed to be in utter defiance of everything he knew to be true, or possible, _or_ logical.

_He was sat in his childhood home, his step-mother and father in front of him, both eyeing him with bored, disinterested sorts of expressions. Of course he knew that they were neither bored, nor disinterested. They were just, Vulcan._

_He'd never missed his human-mother more. Not that he could ever express those feelings to his father. Not that he could ever express feelings, at all. That would just be too... too human. And since his parent's separation, human emotions were something Yoongi was simply not allowed to indulge._

_"Your mother and I are... perplexed, son," his father said._

_Yoongi rolled his eyes. Perplexed was just a synonym for whatever emotion his father was feeling but wasn't allowed to admit out-loud. By the look in his eyes, the specific half-quirk of his brow, Yoongi assumed that right now, at that very moment, what his father really meant was: 'I'm disappointed'._

_It was a low blow, but Yoongi said what every kid whose parents had remarried said when they found themselves in a tight spot: "she's not my mother."_

_It's not even that he disliked his step-mother. To dislike her meant he must feel the opposite of affection. In truth, all Yoongi felt was... nothing. He was neither interested, nor dis-interested in his father's second-wife. To be completely, completely honest, Yoongi found it difficult to take interest in anything at all these days._

_Except for music. He loved music._

_His father just ignored him. His step-mother wasn't capable of feeling 'hurt' anyway, so what did it matter what he said, either way._

_"Your grades are... unexpected, Yoongi. Your completion in the top percentile of your class at the conclusion of the last school-year was assumed. I see a shift in your overall demeanor and behavior - your mother and I have kept up a standard routine in the way of work, school, and home activities. Logically, your scores should not have wavered - and yet, you have fallen to the third percentile. Do you have an explanation for this shift?"_

_Yeah. Hell yeah he had an explanation. He wanted to live on Earth. With his real mother. He fucking hated it here._

_"Is there a reason for your silence, son?"_

_Yoongi quirked his brow, licking at the sides of his lips as his face formed into a smile. "Not really," he drawled._

_His step mother spoke up for the first time. "I will remind you that this is a Vulcan household, Yoongi. This is a sanctuary of logic, and reason. There is no need for adolescent, human-angst, in this space."_

_Yoongi wanted nothing more than to annoy his parents. Logically, a careless display of 'human' emotion was the easiest and most effective way, and would garner the best reaction._

_So, even though he wasn't particularly amused, Yoongi laughed and reveled in the way his father's eye twitched at the sound._

_The pair of them really did make it too easy. This was a game he played. The more his parents tried to push the Vulcan agenda, the more he rebelled against it._

_In truth, his classes were easy. There was nothing that confused him, no question or content that was too difficult for him to grasp. The Vulcan curriculum was, after all, logical. He could not argue with the way the teachers taught; could not fault the progression of his classes through time. He was also, very, very smart. And he knew it, too. So, more than anything, flunking out (or the Vulcan equivalent of flunking out) was his way of fucking with his father's mind._

_Watching the green vein in his father's temple spasm was the only joy Yoongi was really capable of feeling anymore._

_Which was, beyond any other - beyond his minor hatred of his father; his disinterest in his step-mother - the reason that he wanted to leave Vulcan for Earth._

_His feelings were dying here. And he didn't want to lose them._

_For if he lost his feelings, then he lost his music. And music was the only thing that made him feel._

_It was a viscous cycle that he could not allow to continue._

_"Father," he said, eyes lidded and disinterested. "It seems apparent that I am simply not suited to the lifestyle here on Vulcan. It would explain my poor results - my inability to suppress my more human instincts. It seems, plain to me, at least, that the only logical option at this point is to send me to Earth to live with mother. Perhaps I will be able to make something of myself, there, instead. I fear I am only wasting away, the longer I remain here."_

_His father and step-mother exchanged glances, silent words seemingly passed between them._

_"What is it?" Yoongi asked, eyeing his parents curiously._

_His father was silent for a moment, peering at Yoongi's slouched form over the top of his nose._

_"I had, logically, anticipated you would suggest such a transition - your desire to join your human-mother on Earth has been relatively transparent as of late."_

_Yoongi's brows quirked up. Was his father, for once, going to actually do something that might be in his best interest._

_"As such, I took the initiative and contacted your mother."_

_Shit. He'd fucking done it. Yoongi was going to Earth._

_"We had a rather swift discussion where she informed me that she had no interest in seeing you again. She asked that I keep you here on Vulcan with me, and requested that we not attempt to contact her anymore. I, of course, agreed."_

_Yoongi was finally, **finally** , going back to Ea --_

_"Wait, what?"_

_"Yes," his step-mother took the chance to chime in. "She was particularly displeased to hear from us. Reacted as one might expect - she is human after all. Her argument was deeply illogical, though, your father and I believe, ultimately, that it would be in your best interest to remain here. Complete your Vulcan education, submit yourself to the Kolinhar, then, if you still wish to return to Earth, you may do so, as an adult, of your own volition."_

_Yoongi couldn't speak. He thought his emotions were pretty much dead in the water. If that was true, then why did this hurt so much? Why did those words - 'no interest in seeing you again' - slice deep into his core, lodging inside his lungs like a shard of glass._

_More than anything, Yoongi wanted to laugh at his parents. To say something sassy and deny the idiotic words that were coming out of their mouths. But somehow, for some stupid, stupid, reason, he couldn't. What they were saying made sense. He'd tried to contact his mother a number of times. He'd sent her messages and gifts; correspondence regarding his grades, and music that he'd written for her birthday. She'd never responded to anything._

_At the time, Yoongi had just convinced himself that she was busy - or maybe, that it was too difficult to respond considering what happened between her and his father._

_Now, though. Now it all made sense. It was logical, after all._

_She didn't want him. Didn't love him. So she didn't respond._

_He was stuck here, on Vulcan, with his father._

_When Yoongi cried, bursting into tears like a five-year-old in the living room of his childhood home, it might have seemed like an almost logical reaction. His step-mother, though, had been so perplexed (horrified) by his blatant display of emotion that she'd slapped him across the face so hard he saw stars._

_So he just cried more. He cried and he cried and he cried until he couldn't breath. Until he couldn't see. He cried enough to fucking drown himself._

_But then there were arms around him, strong and certain, grounding him and --_

And that's not how it happened at all. Yoongi had cried himself to sleep that night, a big green bruise forming across his cheek-bone. No one had come to him. No one had held him. What the fuck was going on?

"Commander, just breath. Please. Please just breathe. It's okay. I swear, I've got you, it's okay."

Yoongi clung to the warmth against him, sobs still wracking through his body.

"Lieutenant Park to the Triptych - Park to Kim - Park to anyone! Jesus, Triptych, come in, please! We need help! Park to the Triptych!"

Yoongi sniffled, his face pressed against the crook of... someone's neck. Someone's hands rubbing comforting circle's into his back, their voice at his ear, calling for help.

Why were they calling for help, though? Hadn't Yoongi just been in his father's living room?

Where was he now? Who was holding him? What was he --

He wrenched away from the Lieutenant, volting backward, eyes darting around the room.

They were on the bridge, obviously. Though his vision was still partially obscured by tears, he could see the conn, and the helm; he could see the captains chair, his own beside it, the science and engineering stations at the rear. And yet, where was everyone - why was it just him and... _Lieutenant Park?_

"What," Yoongi wiped his sleeve across his face. "What is going on?"

The Lieutenant's eyes scanned across his form, soft with concern. So _gentle_ that Yoongi could almost remember what it felt like to _blush_.

"Don't you remember, sir? We beamed over here from the Triptych? The anomaly in space, sir? The Sutherland?"

Yoongi froze.

Yes. Yes he did remember. Somewhere in the corner of his mind, becoming brighter and clearer as the moments passed, Yoongi remembered.

"I --" he faltered. "I was on Vulcan," he said. "I was with my father and he was -- he told my that my mother didn't want to see m --" the commander's lips clamped shut, as his eyes refocused, locking onto the Lieutenant. "How is that possible?" he breathed.

"I don't know, sir." The security chief's voice was soft and understanding. "I experienced a similar... vision, sir."

"You were on Vulcan?" Yoongi recoiled.

"N-no sir, no. But it was something -- something from my past, as well. I was on Wolf 359, sir, and the Borg were everywhere. It felt _so real_ , sir."

"This is..." Yoongi felt _frantic._ "This is completely, completely illogical."

"Y-yes, sir." Jimin moved towards the Commander, who did his best not to scoot away. "S-sir I'm so glad you're back. I t-though I was never going to reach you. I t-though --"

Rationale took over, and Yoongi quirked his head. "How did you break free form your vision?" He asked the Lieutenant.

The young officer paused, his head quirking to the side. "I -- I'm not sure, exactly. I was looking for survivors... I was crawling through a jeffries tube and then I -- I heard you calling me."

"Calling you?"

"Yes, sir. Like -- inside my mind, you called to me... I've never experienced anything quite l-like it, sir."

Yoongi shifted uncomfortably. Being only half-Vulcan he wasn't used to using his telepathy at all. Most of the time he couldn't even establish a contact mind-meld. What the fuck was going on?

"That is... perplexing," he stated simply, unable to find a better word.

He locked eyes with the Lieutenant, who looked deeply, deeply concerned.

"Sir - I've been trying to contact the Triptych since I came-to. This ship it's... not normal, sir. It's just endless corridors going in all different directions; it's just rooms reflecting rooms reflecting rooms. I don't know what this is, but it definitely isn't the Sutherland. I don't know where we are, sir - but I think we're stuck here."

The commander blew a long stream of air out of his nose.

He couldn't say it to his subordinate, but he fucking hoped they were having better luck aboard the Triptych.

* * *

Seokjin flew onto the bridge, his emergency medical kit slung over his shoulder.

"Get out of my way," he squeezed through the crowd and tried his best to ignore the absolute hopeless, sinking feeling in his gut.

In front of him was Namjoon, hands fluttering, eyes frantic, holding back the rest of the crew as they watched with horrified expressions.

And in front of Namjoon was his brother, Taehyung, curled into the fetal position, hands covering his ears.

The doctor kneeled to the floor beside his Captain and pulled out his medical tricorder.

"What happened?" he asked, trying to keep his voice as steady as possible as data filled the screen of his scanner.

Namjoon shook his head, his hands pressed lightly against Taehyung's arm - coaxing or comforting, Jin wasn't sure.

"I have no idea," the Captain's voice was level, but Jin couldn't miss that frantic lilt. "He was fine. He was totally fine. We beamed two officers across to the Sutherland and he just _collapsed_ like this. Sometimes he screams and mutters phrases. Some of it I can understand and some of it I can't."

Jin pulled a hypospray from his kit and, setting the proper dosage, pressed it into his brother's neck. Taehyung's body relaxed some, but not much.

The doctor turned to the captain. "There is a consciousness here," he said carefully.

Namjoon's eyes widened. "Taehyung said there was nothing."

Jin nodded. "There _was_ nothing. But now there is."

"Jesus Christ."

Namjoon's eyes were  darting around, his mind moving a thousand miles a minute. It was so hard for Jin to not reach out towards him - press his palm against his face like he had done a million times before. But with his brother on the floor, the thoughts and emotions of the crew building like a crescendo beneath Seokjin's brow, he couldn't allow himself a moment of sentimentality. He was a doctor and Namjoon was his captain.

They were the most senior officers on the ship.

They had to figure this out.

Jin pressed against his communicator. "Medical team to the bridge," he said, his voice free of emotion.

"Is he gonna be okay, Jin?" Namjoon's eyes were wide with worry.

"The best thing we can do for him is figure this out, sir. I've given him a paracortical suppressant. It should dampen his psionic abilities some - lessen his pain. Until I know what it is that he's... accessing, there's nothing else I can do."

The medical team arrived, surrounding the doctor.

"Take him to sick-bay," Seokjin instructed. "Monitor his psilosynine levels. If they move beyond... sixty-percent: dose him again. Forty cc's should do. If he starts seizing, treat him as you would a human patient. He has a history of seizures. Monitor the times closely. If any of his readings pass an upper threshold contact me immediately. Be ready to induce a coma if necessary. If his symptoms worsen it may be our only option to protect him against any kind of psychic trauma."

Seokjin felt a warm hand press against his shoulder. He should shrug it off. He _should_.

But he couldn't. He was so fucking weak.

He took one last look at his brother. "Okay, go. Contact me if there's any major change."

When the medical team carried Taehyung away, Seokjin turned to Namjoon. "We need to speak privately," he said.

Namjoon nodded tersely. "My ready-room."

* * *

 

Seokjin gazed out the window at the inky-black nothingness, his broad-shoulders slack with defeat.

"Jin?" Namjoon spoke carefully, quietly.

The commander was quiet for a long moment.

"There's a consciousness," the doctor said, "out there," he nodded towards the window. "It's observing us."

Namjoon felt his eyes widen. "Observing?" 

"Yes," Jin breathed. "Like a science experiment. It desires understanding. We are rats in a cage. The fiercer our reactions the more excited it becomes; the more it longs to push us to our limits... see what we'll do... what we're capable of."

"Jesus."

The doctor motioned out the window. "This blackness that you see: it's like a laboratory, I think. It's a pocket inside space that is... empty: influenced by nothing - _influencing_ nothing."

Namjoon could do nothing but breath in, and breath out. "As inexplicable as it sounds," he said. "It would explain everything."

Jin wrapped his arms around his body. "This _being._ It's consciousness is vast. So vast that I can barely  _begin_ to comprehend where is starts and where it ends. The fact that it could shield itself from us like that," the doctor sucked in a shaky breath. "It's clear to me now that it _decided_ to reveal itself."

"So it knows we're aware of it's existence?"

The doctor nodded. "Yes, it is."

"Is it open to communication?"

A cold laugh. "As open as you might be to communicating with an ant-farm." Jin turned around. "We're like, insects, to it. Less, even. Not because it's cruel or malevolent... just because it's so," he made a motion with his hands.

"Sublime," Namjoon finished for him.

"Yes, exactly."

When their eyes met, a silent terror passed between them that wiped away all of Namjoon's resolve.

"Imzadi," he crooned.

Jin froze. Not just his breathing, or his face, but his whole body just _locked up_. "Don't," he warned. "If you start I won't be able to stop, and we both know that it's not what you want."

Namjoon shook his head. "What if it is?"

Jin laughed. "It isn't. You're just scared - you're overwhelmed - and I'm familiar and comfortable. It's not _real_ , Namjoon."

"It's always been real, Jin, t-that was never the problem --" 

"Why are we having this conversation now? Why now, of all times, Joonie?" The captain flinched at the name - he hadn't hear that sound in so long. "Your best friend is missing; my brother is in sick-bay unconscious. The whole crew is in jeopardy. We cannot do this now."

"Imzadi --"

When Namjoon stepped towards him, Jin backed away. "No, Namjoon. I can't let this happen. For your sake. I can't let this happen."

The captain closed his eyes, weight falling to his heels.

What the fuck was he thinking?

"There has to be a way out of this."

Namjoon turned his back on the doctor. He didn't want him to see his face as he mentally slapped himself.

He had known, realistically, deep down, that he was too young to take on this mission. He'd done it anyway, though, because Namjoon was smart; just smart enough to _pretend_ that he wasn't a bumbling idiot. In reality he still had to hold up his thumbs and index fingers on either hands to figure out which way was right and left. He stumbled a lot - broke things - hurt himself (and others) more often than he was comfortable admitting.

Every morning, rolling out of bed, shrugging on his uniform and pinning his pips to his collar, Namjoon _knew_ he was an imposter. An imposter of epic proportion. Who gives command of a starship to a xenolinguist, anyway? Sure, he had command experience - he'd taken the courses, and done the emergency training. At his core, though, Namjoon was a scholar. And scholars did not save seven-hundred-and-fifty officers from certain death at the hands of a psychic, alien entity.

Namjoon knew this, because the answers were not in a textbook.

And if they couldn't be found in a textbook, then Namjoon couldn't find them. Period.

Everyone was going to die.

Everyone was going to die because Namjoon was a _fucking_ pathetic excuse for a Captain.

And then Seokjin's arms were around him, pulling the taller man against his chest, cradling his head in the soft crook between his neck and shoulders.

" _Don't say that about yourself, Imzadi. You know it's not true._ "

Namjoon breathed him in. How could he work in a sick-bay, surrounded by medical equipment and disinfectant, and still smell like peaches and cream? How did he still know exactly what Namjoon needed, before he even knew it himself?

How was the captain still so much in love with him?

Why had he pushed him away all those years ago?

" _Shhhh,"_ Seokjin whispered inside his mind.

The feeling of him ghosting around in there was something Namjoon never thought he'd experience again. Physical intimacy was one thing, but sharing your mind with someone? That was something else, entirely.

It had taken a number of months, but over time he'd grown used to the sensation - liked it, even - of his lover inside his mind. A relationship without secrets or lies was, on a deeply human level, terrifying. But it had been natural for Seokjin, and it had  _become_ natural to Namjoon. They never had to argue, and they never had to hold anything back: their souls laid bare for one another, they were free to  _love_. Just love. 

Until Namjoon fucked it all up.

" _It doesn't matter anymore, Imzadi. It was so long ago."_

_"It does matter. It matters to me, Jin. You matter to me."_

The younger man lifted his face from the crook of the elder's neck, dipping his forehead until their noses were touching.

" _Imzadi,"_ Jin warned, but he made no effort to move. " _Don't make this harder than it already is."_

 _"Can it be harder than this?"_ Namjoon asked him. 

 _"Yes,"_ Jin said, silently. _"Yes, it can."_

Fuck it, though.

Namjoon kissed him.

A figure appeared in the corner of the room.

* * *

 

"Anything?" Yoongi asked.

"Negative, sir." The Lieutenant shook his head, drooping further back into his seat.

The commander glanced around, perplexed (completely, completely fucking _irritated_ _)._

All the equipment was there. If he didn't know better he would've thought this _was_ the bridge of the Triptych. But it wasn't. Everything around them was -- it's as if it was an illusion. The computers reacted as if they were real: they chirped and chimed just like they would on-board his own ship; they lit up and buzzed and beeped from the right tactile input. It didn't matter, though. No matter what the pair of officers tried, it had no more effect than trying to command a ship from the holodeck.

Yoongi huffed, he was seriously starting to lose his patience.

"What should we do, sir?" The young Lieutenant asked.

Yoongi flexed his shoulders. "There is not much we can do. We've exhausted our options and now, logically, the only thing left to do is to wait."

The security chief pouted, and Yoongi felt the corner of his lips quirk involuntarily.

When he glanced up from the floor, the younger was still watching him. Yoongi lifted his brow.

"O-oh," Lieutenant Park flushed bright red. "S-sorry, sir."

Maybe he was still recovering from his vision.

Maybe it was the impending doom.

Either way, for the first time in years, Yoongi felt (almost) playful.

"Spit it out, Lieutenant. The probability that we escape this... hellscape, is relatively low. You might as well ask what you want to ask."

The young officer cringed, his gaze dropping to the floor.

The commander was (mildly) amused. "Spit it out, Lieutenant. That's an order."

"Do you feel things?"

The question took Yoongi mildly off guard. He had known, maybe, that the young-officer was wondering something alone those lines, but the honest, and straightforwardness, was surprising.

The commander sighed. "I am half-human," he said simply. "Though, even if I was not - even if my blood was purely Vulcan - I would still _feel_. We are alive, after all."

"Why do you suppress your emotions, then? If you're half human?"

Yoongi gazed across at the Lieutenant, more than a little impressed at his insistence.

The younger officer flushed again. "Uh," he shifted uncomfortably. "Sorry. You don't have to answer that."

Yoongi deliberated for a second, but ultimately decided that he would, in fact, answer. "I grew up on Vulcan with my father," he said, leaning back on his hands. "I suppose following Vulcan tradition seemed the most logical course of action."

"Logic," the Lieutenant mused. "You use that word all the time, I noticed."

The commander dipped his head in affirmation. "It is the Vulcan way," he breathed.

"It's frustrating," Park admitted.

Yoongi raised his brow. "How do you mean?"

The younger officer deliberated for a moment. "I suppose, I mean that... sometimes I don't want to look past my emotions. Sometimes I want to be guided by them. They give me power, I guess."

The commander dipped his head, again. "In the past they gave power to the Vulcan people, as well. But then there was violence, and death, and destruction..."

"I know the history," the Lieutenant said, gazing passed Yoongi with a far off expression. His eyes, eventually, fell on the commanders face. Yoongi resisted the urge to fidget under his gaze. "Do your emotions make you destructive, Commander?"

Jesus, this kid was intense.

Yoongi pursed his lips. "I suppose they have, in the past. I haven't experienced such feelings in a long time, though."

"But you have... experienced them, I mean?"

"Of course I have, Lieutenant. Like I said: I am alive, after all."

The younger offered no response, and Yoongi observed him for a long moment.

"Why do you ask, Mr Park, about destructive emotions?"

The young-mans lips pressed together; Yoongi assumed he was deciding whether or not to answer.

Eventually, his features relaxed, some. "My vision, sir - from earlier. I spent a lot of time trying to put that time, those feelings, behind me. But here we are, and it's the first place I go, y'know? It scares me. Maybe I wasn't ready to come back."

"Come back?" Yoongi asked, his brow quirking.

"You didn't know, sir? Captain Kim brought me back - I haven't been on active-duty in eight months."

Yoongi sighed. He probably should have read over the crew-manifest in more detail. Over time, he'd become comfortable with just resigning to Namjoon's greater judgement. Even though his Captain was a year younger than himself, Yoongi was unbothered by the fact that his friend was infinitely more wise than he would ever be.

"Lieutenant," the commander said.

"Yes, sir?"

"I think, before you pass judgement on yourself, you should remember who-saved-who from their dark visions." He eyed the young Lieutenant with purpose.

The younger flushed, again. "That was nothing, sir."

"On the contrary," he rolled his neck leisurely. "You have done nothing, in my eyes, but prove how much you _do_ belong on the ship, Mr Park. Perhaps you should not doubt your own abilities so."

The Lieutenant smiled, though it was a little bit sad. "I just don't want to lose it, sir," he said after a long, quiet moment.

"Lose what?" Yoongi asked.

"Control, sir."

The Vulcan officer squinted in Lieutenant Park's direction. "If you fear a loss of control then you have come to the right place," he mused.

It was the Lieutenant's turn to quirk his brow. "What do you mean, sir?"

Yoongi gave him one, quick, barely-there, grin. "If we ever get out of here - I have some ideas."

The security officer's eyes widened. "Ideas, sir?"

Ironically, just at that moment, the commander's communicator crackled to life.

_"Commander Min, this is Ensign Jeon, please respond. Triptych to Commander Min and Lieutenant Park, please respond --"_

Yoongi sat up straight, his hand slapping against the insignia on his chest. "This is Commander Min to the Triptych, we read you." The commander locked eyes with Lieutenant Park, who _beamed_ back at him.

_"C-commander, thank God. We've been trying to reach you for hours, sir! What's your status?"_

"We are fine, Ensign. We, too, have been trying to establish contact, but to no avail. We do not know where we are - this ship seems to be some sort of illusion. There is no crew on-board as the sensors suggested. The ship itself is... more of a maze than a spacecraft. If possible, Ensign, we request immediate evacuation."

_"Sir, I -- I'm not sure how, but we've been able to establish a transporter lock on yourself and the Lieutenant. I've been instructed to beam you back immediately, sir. Please hold for transport."_

"Acknowledged, Ensign. The sooner the better."

"Jesus, Jungkook, get us out of here!"

" _Stand-by, sir."_

* * *

 

"Interesting."

Namjoon and Seokjin sprung apart, eyes darting to the figure in the corner of the room.

"Intruder alert: Captain's ready-room!" Where the computer _should_ have taken the ship to an immediate red-alert, there was no shift in status. Namjoon's frown deepened.

The figure in front of him was... humanoid in form. Though it was also distinctly _non-human,_ in feature. While the ready-room was well lit, the entity seems to swallow all the light... it appeared misty, and inky-black; it reminded Namjoon of a book he'd read as a child: Peter-Pan's shadow, up to no good.

" _That's it, Namjoon."_ Seokjin's voice flooded through his mind.

" _Yes, I assumed as much,"_ Namjoon though back, darkly.

The figure shifted. "Telepathic communication - interesting. Though only one specimen is physiologically adapted. Hmmm - make a note, will you?"

_"Why is it speaking Federation Standard?!"_

_"I have no fucking clue!"_

_"Holy shit; holy shit!"_

The figure shifted again, crossing it's arms (?) over it's dark, shadowy chest. "This entity has been observing you for days: the least you could do is show some common courtesy. This entity understands this is a social-norm you are familiar with, yes? This entity put so much effort into appearing in this form, as well."

Was there a _pout_ in it's voice?

Namjoon looked at Seokjin, and Seokjin back at Namjoon.

_"You're the fucking Captain!" Seokjin yelled._

_"What?"_

_Oh, fuck, I am,_  Namjoon whined to himself. 

"This entity is waiting."

Namjoon squared his shoulders.

"Mysterious entity," he said. _No, fuck, that was lame._ "Um, I'm Kim Namjoon, Captain of the USS Triptych. Are you aware that you have... _captured_ a federation vessel? Endangered it's crew? My people are explorers - we are a non-violent species - nonetheless, this could be considered an act of war."

"An act of war?" The entity asked. And then it _yawned_. "Your _people_ do not exist, _Captain_ Kim. This laboratory is unaffected by time or space. As a subject, you are neither here  _nor_ there."

"Neither here nor there?" Jin repeated. "What is it? The fucking Cheshire cat?"

" _JIN."_ Namjoon screeched in his mind.

"What have you done to my brother?" The doctor stepped forward, causing his captain to practically keel over and die on the spot. "Whatever it is, you need to stop. What kind of scientist are you? Are you aware of the kind of psychic trauma you could cause? What's the point in running an experiment if you simply kill off all your subjects?!"

"The empath?" The figure mused. "The empath is too powerful: could cause problems. Had to remove him from the sample."

"Remove him from the _sample_?" Jin was fuming, Namjoon could practically see the steam shooting out of his ears.

The entity cocked his head. "Before appearing the two subjects at present shared an uncategorized exchange: a recorded hormonal increase in what your species calls dopamine, norepinephrine, and serotonin. When male, Terran, subject-A, pressed his vermilion flesh against male, Betazoid, subject-B, both subjects experienced a rise in respective oxytocin-levels of almost 300-percent. Additionally, the neurotransmitter involved in Betazoid psionic exchange, psilosynine, also significantly increased in Subject-B's paracortex - make a note."

"What the fuck is going on," Namjoon breathed.

"This entity has appeared to you with singular purpose. We wish to categorize the exchange."

" _Categorize the exchange_?" Jin seethed.

"Wow, I'm really so lost." The captain breathed.

Seokjin turned to face him. "The kiss, Namjoon! He wants to know why we kissed!"

Namjoon was, mildly, taken aback. "Sorry? Come again?"

The entity shifted. "Though physical intimacy is categorized for purposes of procreation, your hormonal and subsequent emotional reaction is not. Though two compatible subjects were removed for purposes of control, we could not replicate the exchange. We wish to understand. Please explain."

"Is this really happening?" Namjoon asked, turning to the doctor. "Like, did I fall and hit my head, or something? Am I dreaming?"

"This entity can attest to the reality of the situation."

"Wow," Namjoon breathed. "In that case, this is gonna be an interesting conversation."

" _Captain_ ," Seokjin growled. "My _brother_ , sir. The _crew_."

The captain shook his head. "Oh, yeah, of course." He straightened his uniform, pulling at the base of his jacket. "Mysterious entity," _oh shit,_ he'd said it again. "If the doctor and I agree to 'categorize the exchange' can you, in turn, ensure that my crew, the ship,  will be returned to normal space - released from this... experiment?"

The shadow went still, and silent.

"This entity agrees. Categorize the exchange."

"Wow," Namjoon breathed. "That was easier than I thought."

"Categorize the exchange."

Namjoon ran an exasperated hand through his hair.

"Well... there's this thing we Terran's call 'love'..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See how I gave y'all a little somethin-somethin, but then I took it away?
> 
> Yeah. Get used to that. 
> 
> Love,
> 
> Mussells


	4. Three-Jupiter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Empathic Taehyung; adorable, awesome Jungoo; sassy Jimin; not-so-successful ladies man J-Hope!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Crew! 
> 
> This chapter's a little bit less action packed. A little more about getting to know a few of our boys. I hope you enjoy, either way! 
> 
> Sorry it's later than I said, as well. Like, everything that could go wrong did go wrong. I live in the tropics so it's currently hot af. The air-conditioner at my place broke and then we had an electrical storm which knocked out all the power and it set me back agesssssssss. 
> 
> A lovely reader asked me for an update schedule, at this stage I'm going to try to update for you twice a week. Once over the weekend, and then again, in the middle of the week. Tuesdays or Wednesdays, and Saturdays, probably. I don't want to make anything too concrete, though, because I'm pretty useless when it comes to strategy and deadlines, plus, I work better when I got some room to groove. 
> 
> Love to hear from you in the comments, as always. Sound off! 
> 
> *Hearteuuuu*
> 
> PS There's a little bit of homophobic language in this chapter. As usual, don't put yourself in a place where you feel uncomfortable. It IS a very minor part of the chapter, though.

Taehyung tucked his lips together, his hands clasped behind his back.

"I'm going to need you to elaborate." The captain was perched on the edge of his desk, his arms clasped across his chest and his brow quirked.

The lieutenant felt pretty chill. There was, logistically, nothing for him to worry about. He could feel the captains emotions swirling around the room, flavoring the air with their own unique scent. Taehyung resisted the urge to inhale deeply. He'd missed Namjoon a lot; something about his own, particular essence was oddly comforting to the young man. Always had been.

He smelt like his brother, after all, except a little bit less like his parents and a little bit more like... a friend.

 _Scent_ was a word Taehyung would often use when asked to describe the emotions of others out-loud. In truth, he could've also said flavor, or color, or sound. But, really, there was no _exact_ way to describe, accurately, his particular brand of psychic empathy. As he experienced it, emotions could be like a tide. First they were far off in the distance, lurking at the corner of sight and sound and smell. Then, they would inch forward, barely there at all, at first, until all of a sudden Taehyung was neck-deep, about to be swallowed whole.

That's why he had to be careful. So careful.

It was also why he was always a little bit... off.  

He loved to be around people - how could he not. But it was hard not to get swept away by the various feelings, attitudes, and flavors of those around him. So, he played little games to distract himself. Had conversations with the cutlery, asked the field-coils how they were doing today, suggested the plants in the arboretum get a little more sun because they were looking kind of pale.

Mostly, people just ignored him; some found it endearing.

Some didn't.

In truth, his empathic abilities aside, the Lieutenant had _also_ heard _himself_ described a number of ways: head-in-the-clouds; four-dimensional; awkward; well-meaning-but-not-all-there.

Today's particular set of adjective's, however, had been: that-weird-fucking-faggot.

The lieutenant had cringed, a little, internally but overall he hadn't felt too bothered. It was an occupational hazard of his particular disposition, after all. He didn't particularly enjoy it, but it also didn't affect his day-to-day.

Ensign Jeon had felt differently.

"Elaborate, sir?" Taehyung squared his shoulder, eyes flitting to the side in an attempt to avoid his captain's steady gaze.

"Yes, Lieutenant. Elaborate."

"Not sure what you mean, sir."

"I mean: why, exactly, did Lieutenant Commander Jung have to jump in between two of my ensigns in stellar-cartography this morning?"

Taehyung resisted the urge to shift uncomfortably. He, also, had no clue why the young officer's mind had lit-up like crimson starlight when Ensign Roberts had called him 'that-weird-fucking-faggot'. Whatever the reason, the kid's emotions shifted _red_ and he lashed out with a closed fist, knocking into the other junior officer's face with a stomach-curdling 'thwack'. Taehyung, as one of the more-senior staffers, should have jumped in between them himself. Unfortunately, he'd been too shocked to do anything but gaze on, caught up in the emotions of the pair, ensign Jeon's fury making the hairs on the back of his neck stand completely on end.

"Well?" The captain prompted.

The Lieutenant opened his mouth to answer, but no sound came out.

The captain sighed. "Taehyung-ah," he said.

And there it was. Despite the look on his commanding officer's face, all the empath could see was a purple-haze; he could smell something comforting, like hot-coco, or cinnamon and apple. Despite the fact that he was in trouble, all he could sense from his captain was _warmth_.

"I'm really sorry, hyung. I -- this really is all my fault. I wasn't paying enough attention, I had no idea Jeon was going to react like the when he called me a f -- " The Lieutenant stopped short. Snitching had never been cool at the Academy, and the unspoken repercussions for such actions were probably _worse_ on a starship.

Namjoon sighed again, rubbing his hand against his face. He looked tired. He'd been pulled out of bed for this; Taehyung could tell by the disheveled state of his uniform: like he'd literally rolled out of the covers, shrugged his jacket on, and headed for his ready-room without even a spare minute to rub the sleep out of his eyes. "Ensign Jeon's lucky that he's got a crystal clear record, and that Roberts is fucking trouble. _You_ are lucky that Commander Jung was there and heard what Roberts said, otherwise you'd be in deep shit, too, kid."

"I know, sir." Taehyung looked at his shoes.

The captain was quiet for a long moment, his eyes passing across Taehyung as a number of emotions saturated the room: irritation and concern... mostly concern. "Are you okay, Tae?" He asked, finally.

"Me?" The empath glanced up at Namjoon, a little compromised, emotionally, by the softness in his Captain's features. "I'm fine; why wouldn't I be?"

The captain shook his head, lip pulling between his teeth as a mild sort-of disgust filled the room. "I know what he said to you, Taehyung. I've spoken to some of the junior officers, as well, so I also know this's been going on for a couple of weeks. Why didn't you say anything to me? I could've dealt with this so fast, Tae."

Taehyung blew a lung-full of air out of his nose. _Because it'll only get worse if we feed it._

Namjoon shook his head. "You're not in the Academy anymore, Taehyung. We don't tolerate bullying of any kind on this ship."

_They said the same in the Academy and it never stopped 'em then._

"Just because they let it slide at the Academy doesn't mean it's gonna happen here.  This is _my_ ship. You hear? No one fucking bullies  _my_ little brother on _my ship._ "

The captain had said the last part more to himself than to Taehyung; either way, the younger officer blushed. Despite what had happened between Namjoon and Seokjin, the captain had still said ' _my little brother'._

Taehyung shifted in his shoes. "What's going to happen to Ensign Jeon?"

The captain huffed and leaned back against his desk. "He'll be reprimanded. It'll be noted in his permanent record. _Luckily_ the situation will be detailed in full - I've made sure of that - so it's not like he'll lose his post or his rank or anything." Namjoon ran an exasperated hand through his hair. "He's lucky though; he's fucking lucky that Commander Jung was there."

"I'm so sorry about this, sir." The Lieutenant was close to tears and he was doing a shitty, shitty job at covering it up. "I really am so sorry."

Namjoon stepped forward, a comforting hand coming to rest against Taehyung's shoulder. "Tae," he said. "Look, it's not ideal, but it's fine. The _only_ thing you did wrong was not come to me with this straight away. _I would've helped_ \--"

"I know that, hyung. I'm just -- I guess I'm used to handling it on my own, when this kind of thing happens, so I was pretty taken aback when Ensign Jeon... stepped in. I should've stopped them both but I was just --" He sighed. "You know how it is, sometimes."

The captain quirked his head. "I know, Tae, but you're not an Ensign anymore. You have command responsibilities now, but you also have _command_. You could've reprimanded that asshole _yourself._ You realise that, right?"

The Lieutenant brushed at the back of his head. "Yeah, I'm really... not used to that, yet."

"Well you better _get_ used to it, because I'm leaving Ensign Jeon's punishment up to you."

The empath felt his eyes widen. "Punishment, sir?"

"Yep. Roberts might've had it coming but doesn't change the fact that Jungkook _hit_ him. He's gotta be dealt with."

"What about Roberts, sir?" As far as Taehyung was concerned he was the one who should be _punished_.

The captain crossed his arms across his chest and sighed. "You won't have to worry about him anymore."

"Sir?"

"He's finished on this ship."

"Finished, sir?"

"Finished."

* * *

 

Taehyung smiled. He'd spent the last fifteen minutes reading through Jungkook's Academy record (something he could do now that he was a _lieutenant)._ He hadn't had any nefarious intentions -he'd just wanted to know more about him; wanted to see what made the kid tick; whether there was anything in there that might help him come up with a _punishment_ \- a punishment that would suit what Taehyung didn't even, really, believe was a crime.

He'd found something.

Oh boy, had he found something.

The Lieutenant entered into sick-bay and wriggled his nose at the sharp scent: not just emotionally, but literally, as well. How his brother Jin still managed to smell like a sugar-cookie after spending all day in a place like this was beyond him. Everything inside was so clinical, though when he rounded the corner and his eyes fell on his brother's broad-shouldered silhouette, he couldn't help but feel a little bit safer.

Realistically, he wanted to hop into his brother's arms and have him cradle him while he pet his silky, black hair. It'd been a long day, and Taehyung was particularly bad at dealing with his own, crappy emotions. It's why he put so much effort into remaining happy and chirpy: he was predisposed to exactly the opposite, and when he felt low, he felt _low;_ it was difficult to come back from, and a waste of time he couldn't afford.

Unfortunately, Jungkook was sat on a bio-bed so the lieutenant would have to ask his brother for a cuddle later. The ensigns hands were clasped loosely in his lap as Seokjin fluttered around his face. What might've been a pretty bad black eye had faded to nothing-more than a little, green stain against his brow. Seokjin had worked his medical-magic and the young officer would be able to return to duty without anyone else knowing what he'd done. It was a relief to Taehyung: the kid had, after all, gotten into trouble trying to protect him.

That's what he'd been doing, right? Taehyung had no other way to rationalize his behavior.

So maybe that was why, looking at him now, he was dusted with roses. A similar purple hue as Namjoon, with a little more pink, and a little less blue. He smelt like a sweet, dessert-wine, and Taehyung could taste cherries against his tongue.

Wow. It was a little bit intoxicating.

Why did he _feel_ that way.

The ensign looked up from behind Jin's shoulder and his eyes met Taehyung's.

Summer flowers blossomed all around, and the Lieutenant had to shake his head a little to dislodge the dizzy, drunken feeling that was clouding around his eyes.

Seriously, what _was_ that.

"Sir!" Jungkook stood at attention, knocking Seokjin to the side, who huffed with an irritated expression.

"Jesus could you sit still, I'm not, fucking, coloring in a drawing here, you know? Fuck."

The ensign ignored the doctor, his eyes still on Taehyung. The lieutenant smiled, and the younger officer turned a little orange, like a persimmon, or a tangerine.

Jin stilled a little bit at his side, and turned around to Taehyung. His emotions were wary, Taehyung noted to himself.

"Ah, I see you're here, finally." The doctor mused, turning back to ensign Jeon, a misty sort of feeling enveloping his mind.

"Yes, doctor. How's the patient?"

Seokjin's shoulders quirked a little bit. He hated it when his younger-brother called him anything but 'hyung'. The lieutenant didn't care, though: it was an easy way to rile his brother up, and the best part was, the doctor couldn't do anything about it. Calling him 'hyung', after all, in such a capacity, would've been unprofessional.

"He's fine," Jin mused. "He doesn't have a concussion, or anything. He had a pretty good shiner coming up but I've dealt with that. _Roberts,_ on the other hand, _"_ the doctor spat, "has a broken nose."

Taehyung raised his brows, eyeing the young Ensign who cast his eyes towards the floor. "Shouldn't you be treating him, then?" He asked the doctor.

"Nope," Jin said, popping the 'p'. "He can suffer for all I care."

Taehyung paused. " _That's not very professional, Hyung."_

He felt Jin roll his eyes. " _Couldn't give a fuck, to be honest."_ His brother thought in response, and then, out-loud: "Jesus, 'at-ease' or something, ensign. I can't work on you when you're standing up like that."

The younger officer didn't move. Taehyung's eyes flitted back towards him, still standing at attention, his emotions still difficult to pin-down. "At-ease, ensign."

Ensign Jeon swallowed, but sat back down.

Jin huffed, but got back to work without another word, as Taehyung came to stand at their side. He watched Jin press across Ensign Jeon's face, feeling for any deeper damage against the bone. Seemingly happy with his work, he clicked off the dermal re-generator, and slipped it onto the table at his side. "That should do it," he said with a sigh. "Please don't get into any brawls, at least for a few days."

The ensign looked towards the ground again. "Yes, sir. I won't, sir."

"Well, alright, then." The doctor put his hand against Jungkook's shoulder, and in a rare, almost unheard of gesture, he said, "thank you."

Jungkook turned tomato-red, "'salright, sir."

"I'm gonna go fill out some paperwork; I leave him to you, _Lieutenant_." Taehyung grinned as his brother stepped passed him. " _I like him."_ Jin mused silently.

" _Yeah,"_ Taehyung thought in return. " _So do I."_

* * *

 

Lieutenant Kim made Jungkook nervous like no other person he'd met in his whole damn life. It was something about the way that he was a fucking living, breathing _icon_.

Jungkook had spent his days as captain of Nova Squadron trying his absolute best to live up to Taehyung's legacy. Not that he'd ever succeeded, though. The way that that man could pilot a vessel... well, frankly, it was art. It was fucking art and Jungkook couldn't look away. He'd spent night after night in his quarters at the academy watching the vids; he'd memorized every maneuver - the sound of Taehyung's voice over the intercom: that deep-sugary lilt whispering instructions to his crew during a particularly difficult run.

Under Taehyung's command, Nova-Squadron had successfully performed a Kolvoord Starburst near the moons of Saturn.

It was the last time, too. The maneuver was prohibited shortly after because of how difficult, and by nature, dangerous, it was.

Taehyung could do it though.

Taehyung could do anything.

Jungkook _worshiped_ him, and now they were serving on a vessel together, and some evil creature had called him _weird_. Called him a _faggot_. And Jungkook had just _reacted_. And now Taehyung probably hated him.

 _Fuck_.

"I'm not upset," the lieutenant said trying to catch Jungkook's eye, though the younger did his best to keep his gaze fixed on the commanding officer's shoes. "I mean I _am_ upset... just not in the way you're thinking."

Jungkook bit his lip. "I'm s-so sorry, sir. I'm so sorry if I've g-gotten you into trouble, o-or anything. I- I really can't tell you how s-sorry I am."

The lieutenant laughed. "Ya know," he mused, the tip of his boot scuffing against the carpet. "If I wasn't your commanding officer, I'd tell you how thankful I am that you stood up for me like that. No one's ever done that for me except for my brother and Nam -- h-his f-friend."

Jungkook looked up from the carpet and felt his cheeks light up as Taehyung's eyes took in his features with a soft expression.

"But I _am_ your commanding officer," he said, finally. "And as such, I have to tell you how completely, completely out of line you were today."

Jungkook died a little on the inside, his heart hammering in his ears, his eyes falling back to the floor.

"You'll be reprimanded and the incident will appear in your permanent record." There was a strange edge to Taehyung's voice. Guilt, maybe. "You're lucky that Chief Jung vouched for you; that your record is as clean as it is, or this might've been much, much worse." The lieutenant paused for a moment, and then: "what, in the _greater universe_ , were you thinking?"

_That no one gets to speak to you like that. No one._

Jungkook opened his mouth, but said nothing.

"I asked you a question, ensign."

"I-I don't like bullies, sir. I u-understand that this ship has a chain of command, sir, b-but we're all equals, r-really. Aren't we? N-no one has the right to say such things of anyone else. This is the twenty-fourth century, for goodness sake. W-we're explorers. If we can't accept and love the people who are different than we are, w-what's the point." He looked up at Taehyung.  "What's the point, sir?"

The lieutenant watched Jungkook with a heavy-gaze. How were his eyes still so _gentle,_ though?

Eventually, the empath breathed in through his nose. "The captain has left your punishment in my hands, unfortunately. Before we discuss what I've decided, I want to make certain you understand something. This is not high-school. This is not the Academy. We do not, not under any circumstances, tolerate violence aboard this vessel, ensign? Do I make myself clear?"

The ensign nodded. "Yes sir," he said quietly, his eyes falling away.

The lieutenant breathed out. "Okay, then. Well, in that case, report to holodeck two."

Jungkook looked up. "Sir?"

Taehyung wiggled his eyebrows. "You're off duty, right?"

"Y-yes, sir."

"Well, I've had a think, and I've decided what you're going to do to make up for your little mishap this morning."

"O-okay, sir?"

The empath smiled, almost diabolically, and Jungkook felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up on end.

"I was reading through your record."

Oh shit.

Surely Taehyung hadn't learned about Jungkook's little obsession from his academic _record_ , had he?

"I was reading through your record and I noticed that you were quite active extracurricularly?" 

Jungkook frowned.

Yeah, so he'd been in a lot of clubs at the Academy. What did that have to do with anything?

"Uh, yes sir." He said. "I was, sir."

"Hmm," the Lieutenant mused. "I noticed that you were a part of the dance-team? Is that correct?"

Oh no.

"Uh, yes. I was, sir."

"Well, were you any good?"

Jungkook could literally feel sweat beading at the nape of his neck. "Um," he said. "I'm not sure, sir."

"So you were, then?" Jungkook looked up at his superior officer. "If you were bad you would've just said 'no, I was awful'. People only say 'I don't know' when they're good at something, but they're trying to be modest."

Jungkook grimaced.

"So, in an effort to save time, I'm gonna go ahead and order you to tell me, truthfully: were you, or were you not good?"

Jungkook pouts. Checkmate.

"I was good, sir."

"How good?"

"Very good, sir."

Taehyung grinned. "Are you still good?"

Jungkook sighed. "Yes sir."

"Alright then. Well, as your superior officer I am ordering you to report to holodeck two. Chief Jung is choreographing a small piece for the cultural exchange on Risa next month. Security officer Park is joining him. So will you. That's your punishment."

Taehyung smiled at Jungkook expectantly.

Jungkook shrank back into the bio-bed. There was a reason he'd pulled out of the dance-team at the Academy. Somewhere along the way he'd developed crippling stage-fright that he hadn't been able to shake. It didn't matter how good he was; it didn't matter how many times he danced, solo, in a dark studio to prove to himself that he still _could_. The fear came one day and it just never left. Jungkook hadn't set foot on a performance stage since.

The idea petrified him, and he had a feeling Taehyung could tell.

"Please," he said, lifting his doe-eyes to the lieutenant's amused gaze. It was a last resort and he felt a little disgusting doing it, but doe-eyes were effective. "Sir I'll clean the deuterium cartridges with my _tooth brush_ for three months, sir. Please, please don't make me dance."

Taehyung just shot him a boxy grin. "Nope," he said. "You're joining the Triptych's dance trio. It'll be great - you're too shy Jungkookie, so we might as well turn this into a teaching moment, and see if we can't cure you of that shyness, as well. It's not going to do anything for you when you're captain of a starship, ya know?"

The ensign was trying to listen, but his mind was glitching on the fact that the Lieutenant (Taehyung. _Kim Taehyung)_ Had just called him _Jungkookie_.

Why did he feel so dizzy.

"Sir.."

"No!" Taehyung laughed. "You don't get to argue, that's why it's called an _order_ , ensign. Report to holodeck two and let Chief Jung know you'll be joining him - if you head off now you might catch him on your way there."

"I --" Jungkook paused. "Y-yes sir."

It was fine, maybe he could eject himself out of an airlock on the way, instead.

* * *

 

Jungkook _did_ catch him on the way there.

He was walking past the officer's quarters on deck eleven when a door opened and Lieutenant Commander Jung was vaulted out of the room: shirtless.

"The only girl you fucking care about is _the ship_!" Something was thrown in his face. Ah, his shirt. "So why don't you go fuck a plasma coil instead, you fucking jack-ass!"

Jungkook stopped. His mouth falling slack as the door slid shut in the chief's face.

"Wish it was the first time I heard _that_ one," the commander muttered, untangling his shirt from his features and pulling it across his head with a huff. When the collar was properly situated around his neck, and his arms through both sleeves, the commander turned around and noticed Jungkook standing there with his mouth a little ajar. "Oh," he said, lips pulling up at the corner. "Hey, Jungkook!"

 _Hey, Jungkook!_ The chief was one of those senior-officers who paid no mind to command structure during a friendly exchange. Hell, he even called the captain 'cap', the idea of which gave Jungkook a minor stomach-ache when he considered referencing the ship's most senior officer so casually.

The Chief Engineer was smiling at Jungkook, and Jungkook was having real, genuine trouble, not smiling back.

Commander Jung was a handsome guy. He was of average height and build; he had shiny, deep, chocolate hair and warm brown eyes to match; his nose was sloped nicely and his jaw was strong, so when he gazed down at the dilithium matrix any officer who might pause to take in his profile... well, Jungkook couldn't blame them. His best feature however, unarguably, unequivocally, was his smile. When the chief engineer of the Triptych smiled, it was as if the Earth's sun was captured in a moment and gifted to whoever might be lucky enough to bask in it's momentary glow.

Plus, the guy could make a warp core _sing_. Jungkook'd never met a more gifted engineer in his life.

"You alright, Jungkook?"

The crewman was broken free from his thoughts when the commander appeared right in front of him. "Uh, yes sir!" He said, a little too loud. "I'm fine, sir. Are _you_ okay?"

The engineer laughed, and Jungkook felt that almost _compulsive_ urge to laugh with him. "Yeah, I'm fine, kid. Nothing like a brawl and a woman scorned to start off your morning."

Jungkook grimaced. He was the brawl. "Was that your girlfriend, sir?"

The commander scoffed. "Who, her?" He pointed at the closed door he'd been pushed out of. "No, not at all. I only have one real lady in my life and it's this here ship." He placed his hand against the access panel on the wall of the corridor and it buzzed to life underneath his touch. "She never says nasty things to me."

Jungkook grimaced. "I see, sir."

The engineer laughed again. "You know you don't have to keep saying 'sir' like that when we're off duty, right? You can just call me Hoseok."

"Hoseok, sir?"

"Yeah, Hoseok. That would be my name, after all."

The ensign balked. "Yes, sir! I know that, sir! S-sorry, si --" He paused, watching his commander's right eyebrow raise. "Um, I mean, sorry, H-Hoseok."

"That's better," the commander smiled warmly, and Jungkook felt the edges of his lips quirk upwards again. The chief continued. "So I hear you've been recruited to our little dance duo... well, I guess it's a _trio_ , now."

Jungkook's stomach curled up inside him. "Uh, y-yeah. I'm u-under order from Lieutenant Kim, sir - I mean, H-Hoseok. I'm sorry if I'm messing anything up...  I begged him to let me do something else... literally _anything_ else - but he wouldn't budge."

"Hey, hell no! You're doing us a favor, really. We needed another dancer. Everything just looks better in threes, ya know?"

Jungkook nodded his head. "Yeah, um, yeah."

"Alright well, let's get a move on then. We're a little late but we should still be able to get there before Jimin. That asshole takes so long to do his hair in the morning."

Jungkook set off after the commander. Though he was taller, he still had to walk quickly to keep up with the engineer.

"D-did you know Lieutenant Park before your posting on this ship, sir?"

Hoseok rolled his eyes but  made no effort to correct the crewman. "Yeah, he was in my dance team at the Academy, actually. He's like, some kind of modern-dance, ballet virtuoso. At first it was kind of difficult - fucking irritating, actually - to work him into my more hip-hop, street style, but eventually we found middle ground and we've been dancing together since then, practically."

Jungkook smiled sadly. He missed that. Working with other artists - giving life to new structures and styles. He missed that so much. He missed _dance_ so much.

"How long've you been dancing for?" The commander asked him.

Jungkook hummed. "I think... since I was thirteen, or, fourteen, maybe?"

Hoseok nodded. "That's a long time. You're what, twenty-two? Now?"

"Twenty-one," Jungkook corrected him softly.

"Twenty-one?! Shit, you're young, kid! I could be your father!"

The ensign laughed. "Not quite, sir."

The chief bobbed his head in agreement. "Fine, maybe your uncle then," he looked across at Jungkook, who grimaced. "Your brother?" That seemed more plausible. "Hey, your family's Korean too, right?"

Jungkook flinched a little. "Yeah, technically, I guess."

"Cool then you can call me, 'hyung', instead, seeing as Hoseok seems to be too much for you to wrap your head around." The commander laughed. "Why is the whole of the fucking senior staff Korean, anyway? Doesn't that seem weird to you?"

"The doctor isn't," the crewman mused. "He's full Betazoid."

"He looks like he is. His brother is though, isn't he?"

Jungkook considered, for a second, pretending like he didn't know. "They're half brothers. Lieutenant Kim's mother is human... her ancestry is Korean as well, I think." The ensign quirked his head. "Wow, that is really weird."

The commander chuckled. "At least we know we can all start speaking Korean if we needa keep secrets from the rest of the crew."

Jungkook flinched again. "I don't speak Korean sir, I was raised in the States."

"Oh, really? Your parents never taught you?"

The ensign reached around and scratched awkwardly at the back of his neck. "I was raised by my adoptive parents, sir."

"Oh," the chief's grin dimmed some. "Sorry."

"No that's okay, sir. Really. They're my family. I love them... so much."

The smile returned. "We're they from?"

"They're... well they're Russian, sir."

"Russian? Seriously?"

Jungkook nodded. "Yes, sir."

"So... you speak, what, Russian, then?"

Jungkook nodded again. "A little, sir. My parents were pretty strict about 'keeping the language alive'," he mimicked his father's tone and accent in a deep, thick voice. "But the kids at school made fun of me so I... haven't really spoken much since. After that we just, usually spoke Federation-Standard at home."

The commander let out  sigh. "That's kind of sad."

Jungkook hadn't realized until that moment, but he supposed it was.

"Well, maybe you can take some lessons from the computer in your spare time. Pick up where you left off?" The commander stopped outside of the holodeck, smiling warmly across at the younger.

Jungkook let himself smile back. "Yeah," he said. "Maybe I'll do that."

* * *

 

When Hoseok stepped inside the dance studio he took a deep breath in and sighed happily.

He'd had to tweak the program a number of times: the extra effort was worth it though, because now it was just, _just_ right.

The light was warm and friendly in the way that it radiated through the large french doors at the rear of the space. The air was was just cool enough that any dancer wouldn't get too hot, but it wasn't so cold that you couldn't wear a thin t-shirt and shorts. There was a nice breeze, blowing the gossamer curtains which hung across the windows lazily; they provided enough cover that anyone practicing in the space wouldn't feel exposed, but not so much that it was dark, and secluded, and stuffy.

There were plants hanging on the walls and in the corners looking green and fertile and perfect; the floors were light and bright and the wood was soft and worn from years and years of dance.

The air smelt of sweet-orange, and lemon, and frankincense.

The studio was perfect; it was just as it had been on campus in San Francisco. And it was Hoseok's happy place; the program was a little piece of home he could carry with him wherever he went.

"Waaaah," Jungkook inhaled behind Hoseok. When the chief turned around to gauge his reaction, he was happy to find that the young-mans eyes were bright and happy, and warm.

"You like it?" The engineer asked the younger man.

"It's exactly as I remember it, sir. You must've spent ages putting this program together."

"Yeah," Hoseok mused. "It took me a little while, but it was worth it. The smell was the hardest - I had to send a communique to Doctor Crusher... I waited three months to hear back from her before I knew what scents to program into the computer. That's what did it, I think. Everyone who visits always takes a deep breath when they come inside. And then they _smile,_ just like you did."

Jungkook blushes but he laughs a little as well. "I spent a lot of time in this room as a cadet, sir. It was the only place on campus that felt completely safe, ya know?"

Hoseok nods. "Know exactly what you mean. The Academy can be a fucking ruthless shit-hole sometimes. I used to spend a lot of time in this studio as well: sometimes I'd dance but other times I'd just read or listen to music. I always felt relaxed in here."

The doors opened behind the pair and Jimin spilled into the holodeck, cheeks flushed, a gym bag slung across his shoulder. "Shit," he mumbled, stumbling over his untied shoelace. "Sorry I'm late!"

Hoseok laughed. "That's fine. Jungkook and I only just got here, as well."

The lieutenant looked up, then. "Jungkook? No Taehyung? I thought he was dancing with us?"

The chief shook his head. "Nah, he sent the kid instead. Apparently he's a dance-machine."

Jungkook blushed crimson. "L-lieutenant Kim c-can dance, sir?"

"Yeah, he's an awesome dancer, didn't he say?"

"N-no," the kid swallowed. "He didn't."

The crewman looked a little overwhelmed as Jimin eyed him up and down, an intense sort of expression clouding his features; eventually he must've decided that, whatever it was, it was fine, because he gave the younger officer a sweet little smile and passed him by, sliding his bag across the floor so it came to rest in the far side of the room.

Jimin was a short guy with a sharp jawline and and small, pixie-like features. When Hoseok had first met him, all those years ago at the Academy, he'd been even _smaller,_ barely sixteen years old with fat, chubby cheeks and pouty lips that would purse whenever he felt shy or uncomfortable. Looking at him back then, the chief had wondered what such a tiny, timid boy was doing inside his dance studio at Starfleet Academy; he'd wondered whether the kid had gotten lost, and wound up on the wrong side of campus or something.

But then Jimin had stripped off his jacket and sweat pants and revealed a body that was practically one-hundred percent lean, dancers' muscle. He'd requested some obscure, Japanese track that Hoseok hadn't known, and executed the most beautiful, flawless, and breath-taking modern dance routine that the older-boy had seen in his entire life. Frankly, he'd been pretty taken aback by it; when Jimin wrapped up the choreography, his arms outstretched, his face beautiful and sad, but serene, Hoseok had just watched him with his mouth agape.

Then he'd offered him a position on the squad without a second thought. He'd made enemies that day: the team had already been at capacity so he'd had to boot out an unnecessary member without so much as a day's warning. Realistically, he hadn't cared. Three seconds into the routine Hoseok had known that Jimin was going to win them _all_ the dance competitions. It'd taken some work to integrate his own unique style into the line up, but in the end they'd been better for it, and Hoseok had made a life-long friend.

"So can he dance?" Jimin asked, already peeling off his sweats, bending practically in half, showing his incredible, almost unsettling, flexibility without needing any kind of warm-up.

"I'm not sure," Hoseok admitted. "If he made it on the team back in the day, he must've been pretty good. Can't see Doctor Crusher putting up with anything less than the best when she lost you, after your graduation."

Jimin laughed, eyes forming into warm crescents. "Stop fucking around, Hyung. We both know _you_ were the best: you could've _taught_ the fucking class if you'd wanted."

Hoseok shrugged. He wasn't going to deny it: he was a great fucking dancer. He was comfortable in a number of styles and hadn't met a single form he couldn't learn, if he had to. He'd found dance as a young boy and, aside from quantum mechanics, it had become his absolute obsession; he spent most of his middle-school years with his face buried in a text book during the day, while his muscles and joints popped and locked their way through the night.

It had been a problem for him, deciding whether joining Starfleet was going to trump dance. It had been a big fucking problem. _The_ fucking problem of his high-school years. He'd almost had a breakdown at seventeen, graduation cap clasped in his hand, about to tell his parents that he wasn't going to San Francisco after all, when an Academy ambassador had seen him dance in his high-school's final showcase and told him that that the university had an amazing dance program - that they'd welcome him with open arms - and to contact him when he arrived on campus.

Where his academic courses had been competitive and completely, completely ruthless, dance had been his sanctuary. Realistically, he wasn't sure whether he would've gotten out of the Academy, with his sanity intact, without it. He'd made most of his friends on the dance-team, Jimin included: they'd met during his third year, and bonded easily. 

Even now, years later, his work with Starfleet bringing so much joy to his life - he still danced.

Wherever possible, Hoseok danced.

"Well, I guess we'll do some stretching first and then you can give us a bit of a show, Jungkook?" The chief looked across at Jimin who already had his left leg slung over the barre. "No need to show off, lieutenant."

"Shh," Jimin shifted onto his other leg. "I'm meditating."

Hoseok turned back to Jungkook, who was stood awkwardly at the door of the holodeck, though it had disappeared and now, instead, was simply a book-case. "Jungkook?"

The kid pressed his lips together, hands resting awkwardly at his side. "I-I haven't, um, performed in a long time, sir."

Jimin turned around, slinging his hands over his head. "Don't be nervous," he smiled. "It's not a performance, anyway. We just wanna see what you can do."

Hoseok nodded. "You can freestyle for all I care. Just gotta make sure Lieutenant Kim isn't pranking us or anything."

"P-pranking, sir?" The ensign stuttered.

Jimin choked out a laugh. "Yeah, that's definitely something he'd do. Think it was real funny, too, sending us a third dancer who can't dance."

Jungkook still shifted uncomfortably. "I-I have something that I've been dancing for a long time. I c-could do that, I guess."

Hoseok nodded. "That sounds good," he said to the kid, who'd turned a little green. "Don't worry about it, Jesus, you look like you're gonna be sick."

"'m feel like it too, sir."

"You don't even have to face us, if you'd feel more comfortable? Just face the mirror, and we'll watch your reflection, instead."

Although it was a pretty simple suggestion, the ensign's shoulders relaxed a little, and he nodded tightly.

Jimin smiled. "Good boy," he said.

"Alright," Hoseok clapped his hands together, rubbing his palms against each-other in an excitable motion. "Let's stretch."

* * *

 

Jimin slung his towel over his shoulder as he clapped Jungkook on the back. "Awesome work today, ensign. You really don't have anything to worry about."

The kid had sweat dripping down his brow and his cheeks were flushed; it made him look even fresher and younger than he already appeared. "Um, t-thanks lieutenant. I'm glad you guys don't think I'm awful."

Hoseok laughed at their side. "Far from it," he said. "You're really, really good. I mean, you're tense as hell and I worried a couple of times that you were going to snap your shoulders in half, but it's nothing a couple more practices can't fix."

The ensign blushed. Jimin thought he'd never meet a person in his _life_ who was more blushy than he was, but his subordinate had proved him wrong.

And it was _adorable_.

"Yes, sir." Though the crewman's eyes flashed towards the ground, Jimin didn't miss the little bunny-rabbit smile that curled across his lips as the three of them excited the holodeck.

"Computer, arch."

The door appeared on the far side of the wall, sliding open to reveal a grinning, raven-haired pilot, balanced against the corridor wall. Jimin smiled at his best-friend, whose self-satisfied expression was too contagious and bright to ignore.

When the security chief realized he'd fallen out of step with Jungkook, he turned around to see where the younger officer had gone.

He found him paused half-in-half-out of the holodeck, his face and neck bright crimson, doe-eyes wide, expression shocked, gazing at Taehyung.

Jimin smiled to himself. "You good, Jungkook?"

"U-um, yes. Yes sir. Great sir." He followed after the security chief hurriedly, shifting awkwardly to a stop where Jimin stood leisurely next to his best-friend.

"Alright," Hoseok breathed. "I've gotta get out of here; I'm back on shift in half-an-hour and the deuterium matrix waits for no-man."

Jimin laughed. "Sure, Hyung. Try not to offend any women or get caught in another brawl on your way, yeah?"

The engineer smiled. "Ha-ha, very funny. You're lucky we're off duty or I'd kick your ass, Jimin."

The security officer just shrugged. "I mean, you could try. Not sure how effective warp-field-theory would be in taking down someone who literally has a black-belt in several forms of Klingon, Vulcan, _and_ Terran martial arts. Give it your best shot, though."

He heard Jungkook choke on air at his side, but Hoseok just laughed lightly. "How about I compliment you into a blushy, sputtering mess in front of Commander Min, instead. How's that sound?"

Jimin stilled.

Oh, hell no.

"Jesus, Hyung. Do you have a death wish, or something?" Taehyung waved his hand in Hoseok's direction. "He's literally about to spurt blood out of his eyes. You better get out of here, sir!"

Hoseok smiled a huge, triumphant grin and winked at Jimin. "Try again next time, lieutenant," he mused, before disappearing down the hall. "See you guys for practice next week!"

Jimin was silent for a moment, before muttering, "you win this round, commander," through his teeth.

Taehyung laughed, turning his attention back to Jungkook. "So," he said, eyes grazing over the younger-man's sweaty form. "You look like you had the work-out of your life."

Jimin was still fuming, but he didn't miss the way that Jungkook turned, practically, purple with embarrassment. "S-sorry, sir! I-I didn't have time to ch-change!"

His best friend laughed and, in a very Taehyung-style maneuver, reached out his hand and brushed the ensign's sweaty bangs away from his forehead.

Jungkook didn't even blush. He just went very, very still as Taehyung's fingertips rested against his forehead, maybe, a little bit longer than he could properly handle.

"I-I --" the ensign stammered as Taehyung pulled away. "I-I h-have to g-go now."

Jungkook sped off in the other direction without even bidding Jimin a proper farewell.

The security chief raised his brows, peering across at his best-friend. "Why are you torturing that ensign?" He asked.

"Whaddya mean?" The empath turned to him with open, innocent eyes.

Jimin clicked his tongue. "I mean: he's obviously obsessed with you, so, why are you torturing him?"

Taehyung's features scrunched up. "Nonsense," he said.

"'s not nonsense," the security chief insisted.

"It is absolute, utter, nonsense. If he was _'obsessed'_ with me, don't you think I'd know?" He tapped a long index finger against his temple. "I'm fucking psychic, Jimin."

The lieutenant rolled his eyes. "You're _empathic_ \- don't get carried away."

"Same-same," Taehyung said.

"Is not."

"Is too."

"Is not!"

"Is too!"

Too quickly for Taehyung to react, Jimin whipped out his arm and pulled his friend into a pretty significant head-lock. With the empath's face by his waist, struggling to no avail to free himself, Jimin said, "I'm three Earth-months older than you, you asshole! You better show me some respect!"

The empath kept struggling, "'s only two months!" Jimin loosened his grip some, and his best-friend wriggled free. He stood up straight, patted down his hair, and pulled on the bottom of his jacket to straighten it out. "I was born on Betazed, anyway, so your argument is invalid you fucking brute!"

The pair eyed each-other with slitted lids, before promptly bursting into laughter.

Jimin had met Taehyung at the Academy during a time when he'd desperately needed a friend. He'd finished high-school two years earlier than his peers, left all his friends and family behind in Busan, and moved to San Francisco to pursue his dream of becoming the youngest admiral in Starfleet.

Everyone always eyed the captain's chair, but not Jimin. No, Jimin wanted more than his own ship. He wanted _ship_ _s._

Growing up so small, so meek and shy looking, there was nothing the young-lieutenant craved more than respect. So he worked like dog: he worked like a dog in middle-school; he worked liked a dog in high-school; he danced and danced until his bones literally could barely keep him upright. Arriving at the Academy, he'd expected to make a name for himself - expected his young age to impress his peers enough to earn their respect straight off the bat.

Unfortunately, the reality had been much different. He'd felt alone, and ostracized. His first and second year at the Academy had been, arguably, the worst of his life. He almost quit. He almost fucking _went home_.

Him. Park Jimin. Almost gave in to the pressure; almost caved.

And then, his third year, he'd met Taehyung.

He'd been lying in his bed in his dorm-room, alone, because his roommate had taken one look at him and requested a transfer, when someone had knocked against the door. He'd hopped out of bed, mildly confused, sauntered over to the partition, and pressed his hand against the 'open' function.

Taehyung had stood on the other side, his black bangs obscuring his eyes, and an irritated, but not unkind, expression on his face. He'd opened his mouth with a yawn and said: "you're so lonely that it's literally keeping me awake at night, bro. Will you please be my friend so I can get some fucking sleep?"

Three weeks later he'd moved into Jimin's room, and the pair had been best-friends ever since.

 _That_ day, when all hell broke loose, it had been the memory of Taehyung, among others, that had kept him alive.

Their bond could never be broken.

"Whatcha getting all serious for?" Taehyung rolled his eyes, and pushed his palm against Jimin's shoulder.

"Sorry," Jimin smiled tightly. "Just pops into my head sometimes, y'know?"

Taehyung shrugged, slinging an arm across his friend's shoulder. "Yeah, I know. But it's over and you're a hero, I'm here and we're safe, remember? Just focus on that."

"I-I'm not a hero."

"Of course you are, silly." He hugged his friend closer before changing the subject. "So how was it anyway? Jungkook any good?"

Jimin smiled, thankful for the distraction. "Yeah, yeah. Jungkook's really good. He's a nervous kid, but I think Hoseok'll be able to weasel him out of his shell. He's good like that."

Taehyung nodded. "Did you decide on a name for your little troupe?"

The security chief rolled his eyes. "It's not a 'troupe' it's a crew."

"Don't you need more members for it to be a crew?"

"It's a crew."

"Wont that get confusing because like, the Triptych also has a crew?"

"It's a crew, Tae."

"What about a 'line', instead? That's cool, right? A dance-line?"

Jimin paused. "That actually does sound pretty cool," he conceded to his friend. "A dance-line."

"Yeahhhh, see?" Taehyung grinned. "I have great ideas and shit."

Jimin laughed, the weight against his chest lessening by the second. " _Sometimes_ yes, you  have _good_ ideas."

The empath smiled. "So, what's the name then? Of the dance-line?"

"Oh," Jimin laughed. "Well, we were thinking, seeing as there's three of us and the ship left from Jupiter station, that we'd go with Three-Jupiter?"

Taehyung scrunched up his nose. "Nah that's lame. How about... how about just Three-J, instead?"

Jimin pouted in thought. "Three-J, hmm?"

It did have a pretty good ring to it.

"Alright," he said. "Three-J it is."


	5. Transference

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Risa: Part One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *laughs in author*

Kim Namjoon was a problem for the doctor.

A big problem.

 _The big_ problem of his otherwise, relatively unproblematic existence.

And he was standing in Seokjin's office looking like that. The jacket of his uniform unbuttoned, nothing but a thin undershirt shielding the strong plains of his chest; that deep, grayish hair pushed off his forehead; those thick-rimmed glasses perched on the edge of his nose. And it  _is_ a problem. Yeah, it's a problem. It's a problem because Namjoon could've just gotten his eyes fixed; hell, if he'd asked, _Seokjin_ could've fixed his eyes. But he never did ask; he never had the procedure. It meant that Namjoon _wanted_ to keep wearing those awkward, clunky frames: maybe, because he knew how good he looked in them.

Maybe, because he knew how the sight of him, dressed like that, could drive the doctor fucking wild.

Maybe, because he knew it reminded Jin of that very, very first night.

The first night of the rest of his goddamn, fucking, problematic life.

"Are you okay, Jin?"

"Yeah," Seokjin brushed his bangs to the side. "I'm fine, why?"

"You just - just had a weird look on your face, is all."

 _That_ was another problem. Namjoon wasn't telepathic - not by any stretch - he wasn't even empathic. Somehow, either way and much to the doctor's immense chagrin, he always knew what Seokjin was thinking. He always knew what was inside the betazoid's heart just by glancing at the expression on his face.

Jin hated it. He hated it with a burning passion because it meant he had to use all of his energy (which he kept in an emergency reserve) to filter every thought, every emotion, that passed across his face and came out of his mouth.

If he let Namjoon know what was really inside Seokjin's heart. Well...

It just wasn't an option right now.

"I'm fine," the doctor sighed pulling his features into an impressively passive expanse. "I'm just finishing off some work so I can clock out. Did you need something, Captain?"

Namjoon flinched, and Seokjin's heart clenched inside his chest. His voice had _just_ the right amount of disinterest; _just_ the right amount of apathy when he called Namjoon by his rank, instead of his name.

"Uh, well, we've just fallen into synchronous orbit with Risa. We've got a whole Risan day before the Conference  begins. I'm off duty, you're... about to be off duty; I was wondering if maybe you wanted to beam down to the surface and take a wa --"

"You don't have to do this, sir." The doctor interrupted. Seokjin turned his back because he was mildly sure that the next words out of his mouth were going to break his _own_ heart, if not Namjoon's as well. He didn't know if he could keep his expression smooth; didn't know if he was capable. "I'm really not interested in that sort of relationship, with you, anymore." He said.

And there was just... silence.

"I know we had a moment last month with the... 'mysterious entity'." The doctor threw air-quotes over his shoulder with his free hand. "It's fine, sir, who knows how much they were influencing us, anyway. I mean, it was an experiment after all and they were obviously aware of our _exchange_ on  chemical level, Captain. I assume they had a hand in what happened, so you've really nothing to worry about. Let's just chalk it up to the abnormalities of deep space and leave it at that, hmm?"

God he sounded _friendly_. Eerily friendly: the same tone he might use to tell a colleague not to worry if they spilled a cup of water, or something.

His tone made it sound as if he didn't care about... about what had happened between himself and Namjoon, all those weeks ago; his tone made it sound as if he didn't care, wasn't affected, when Namjoon had pressed his warm hands against Seokjin's neck so gently - as if he was something _so, so_ precious - and licked into his mouth in that way: the way that made Seokjin worry he was experiencing some kind of cardiac event.

The way that made the doctor feel so, so loved.

He hadn't even known what Namjoon was thinking, in that moment. His mind had been too consumed with it's own _relief_. He'd been without his imzadi for so long that Namjoon had started to feel like a lost limb. Sometimes the betazoid would wake up in the night and the absence of one particular mind - on particular body - in his bed was like some kind of phantom pain. He would feel it nudging around his eyes; he would reach out for Namjoon both physically and telepathically and find _nothing_. Then that pain was no longer a phantom: suddenly it was all too real and all Seokjin could do was press his hand into his chest and beg - fucking _beg_ like a pathetic, heartbroken loser - for unconsciousness to take him. The next morning when he woke, he could almost pretend like nothing had happened.

Almost.

But it _had_ happened. Seokjin had met Namjoon during his second year at Starfleet Medical - he'd felt this _pull_ , this weird, inexplicable pull - and they'd become friends. Seokjin had felt practically stated; he'd felt comfortable and safe in their relationship, the _pull_ had shifted into a gentle sort-of tug. Sometimes when Namjoon smiled at him, face bright, dimples showing, the young medical-student would feel his resolve falter, momentarily. Mostly it was easy enough to bury, deep in the recesses of his consciousness: that feeling, that tug.

Three years down the track, graduation looming for both of them, Seokjin had been nursing his drink. The _pull_ had been particularly over powering that night, and he'd known that if he let himself get too drunk, he'd lose control and ruin everything. But then, inexplicably, wonderfully, perfectly, his full lips tinted blue from too much Andorian Ale, Namjoon had pressed his long fingers into Seokjin's neck and kissed him for the very first time.

He'd been wearing thick-rimmed glasses. They'd pressed into the soft skin of Seokjin's under-eye until the young-doctor couldn't stand it anymore; he'd reached up and removed them so he could get just that tiny, fraction-of-an-inch closer.

Closer to his Imzadi; his soulmate. The kiss, the physicality of it, had cemented the bond and Seokjin barely had enough brain cells left - completely drunk on Namjoon's touch, as he had been - to realize he was royally, royally fucked.

Leaving the bar that night,  alone, Jin had been frantic. He'd stopped three times on the way back to his new apartment at Starfleet medical to rub his hands against his eyes, through his hair, and wonder _why:_ why was he so fucking, fucking stupid and weak? He'd ruined the best thing in his life by allowing Namjoon in a drunken, altered-state, to kiss him. He knew that when the younger woke in the morning, the zing of the Andorian Ale gone from his system, he'd never want to talk to Seokjin ever again. Probably wouldn't want to look at him, either.

But he'd been wrong. God, he'd been so wrong. Less than fifteen minutes later Namjoon had practically broken down his door, sweaty and panting form his run across campus, and told Seokjin in no-uncertain-terms that he loved him. Loved him " _since the moment you turned the pages of my Klingon Syntax text-book with your awkward, beautiful, double-jointed fingers"._

That night they'd made such passionate love that Seokjin had _cried_. Since then, for the three wonderful, perfect and beautiful years that they were together, there wasn't one _moment_ where the doctor hadn't felt Namjoon's love.

But then, _it_ happened.

He hadn't been able to read Namjoon on that day, either.

"I - I'm sorry," Namjoon choked on the words a little bit, but it didn't sound like he was crying or anything, so Seokjin figured it was safe to turn around.

It wasn't safe. Not safe at all. Namjoon looked so beautiful and so small and the doctor just wanted to cradle the young-captain in his arms and promise him that no matter what, he was going to love him forever.

And he was.

"I already have plans to go down to the surface with Taehyungie, anyway. That's why I'm trying to wrap it up in here. I've got reports to write, sir, so if there isn't anything...?"

Namjoon stared at him blankly for a moment, before squaring his shoulders and pulling on the base of his jacket. His features became eerily passive. "No, there's nothing else, Doctor. As you were."

He left the room quickly, and Seokjin watched, his whole body crumpling slightly, as Namjoon disappeared.

_Imzadi, why can't I read you anymore?_

* * *

 

"Pah, pah-pah, pah, pah and five-six-seven-eight. Jungkook you're too slow; you're like half a beat off, kid."

The ensign feels his jaw tighten and he's never been more tempted to slap a superior officer in his life.

He's dancing at what felt like warp-two, sweat dripping down his brow, cotton shirt clinging to his body uncomfortably. He isn't _sure_ he can even, physically, move faster than already he is.

And yet, the Commander wants more. More more more.

That's how it is, dancing with Jung Hoseok. He's a literal angel right up until that very, very first beat. Then, the spirit of the Devil  imbues his soul, somehow, and he becomes a choreographer birthed from the fiery-pits of hell.

Somehow, maybe with the fear of Hoseok's wrath spurring him forward, Jungkook is able to move faster.

"Good, good!" The chief yells. "Yeah, uh-huh, that's right."

By the time they're finished, Jungkook feeling like he's properly expired - Jimin not looking much better - Hoseok has that signature smile.

"It looks fucking _dope_ ," he grins ear-to-ear. "Everyone's gonna be so impressed."

"They better be," the irritation in Jimin's voice is clear. "I haven't been sore, in literally every fucking muscle in my body, for the last four weeks, for them to not be impressed."

"They will be!" Hoseok smiles, turning to Jungkook. "You're a natural, kid. You were great before but now you don't look so much like you're dancing through an unexpected shart."

Jimin doubles over with laughter, and Jungkook feels his face go bright red. "T-thanks, hyung." The word is still uncomfortable in his mouth, but at Hoseok's insistence, he's started using the Korean terminology when the two of them are together, off duty.

Sauntering off to the corner of the room, Hoseok uses a towel to dab a delicate line of sweat from his temple. "We're ready. I mean, we'll run through it a couple of times at the venue before the show tomorrow; make sure all the staging is right, but until then, just get some rest - go to the beach or something - try to chill." He looks at Jungkook pointedly as he said the words.

"Ugh, thank-fuck. My calves feel like they're made of stone," Jimin whines, bending down to rub furiously at the muscles. "Do you think there's a good masseuse on Risa? Like, I could be into that."

"Computer, arch." The three of them head out into the hallway together. "I think there's a _number_ of good masseuses on Risa," Hoseok comments. "Drinks... massage... a pretty girl for Jungkookie, maybe?"

The ensign scrunches his nose.

"What?" Jimin says, catching his expression. "What kind of ensign doesn't like pretty girls?"

"I - I do!" Jungkook stammers. "I _really_ do. I just --" He ran a hand through his sweaty locks. "They're so much harder to talk to if they're _pretty_."

"So a Ferengi girl, instead?" Hoseok laughs and Jimin chokes on his water.

"Jungkookie likes Ferengi girls?" A deep, sugary voice joins the conversation and Jungkook turns, hands suddenly clammy.

Taehyung is not a pretty girl and yet, it doesn't matter. Jungkook's body still locks up the same way, and his breath still hitches in his chest in the same way; the hairs on the back of his neck still stand on end in the same _damn_ way. He's tried his best to hide from it - to kill those feelings dead before they can turn into something else; he's tried to avoid the Lieutenant as much as possible, only seeing him when their shifts clash on the bridge.

It hasn't made a damn difference. Jungkook has been perfectly aware, perfectly goddamn powerless to stop it, as his idolization of a certain young, beautiful, half-betazoid pilot shifts into that very _something_ _else_ he's been so worried about.

Now, just the same as any pretty girl, Jungkook is having issues stringing even three words together in front of the Lieutenant.

As if devolving into an awkward, stuttering mess wasn't already a fucking problem in his day-to-day, and Taehyung might not be a pretty girl... but he is _pretty_.

So damn pretty.

As if to prove the ensigns point, the young pilot run his fingers through his jet-black hair, brushing his locks away from his eyes so that Jungkook can view them in all their glory.

One mono-lid, one double-lid; two straight, gorgeous, brows; two sets of perfect, full, thick, dark lashes.

Jungkook does his best not to pass-out.

"Oh, hey Tae!" Jimin greets his friend warmly. "What're ya doing here? I thought you were gonna go down to the surface with Jin-hyung when he got off duty?"

The Lieutenant scrunches up his nose adorably and Jungkook feels that familiar, god-awful sensation of blood rushing to his cheeks. "Yeah he cancelled on me just now - said he was 'tired'," he wraps the word in quotations. "I came to see if you wanted to come with me instead, Minnie? Sun, sea, surf! Hot, sweaty, shirtless boys running slow motion through the crystal-clear waters? Bottomless, sugary cocktails that we can charge to the ship!? Doesn't it sound like fuuuuuun?"

Jimin laughs. "It really does, but I can't, Tae." The betazoid Lieutenant opens his mouth to argue but his friend shuts him up with a finger against his lips. "I've got a meeting with Commander Min that I can't reschedule for a fucking holiday, Taehyung."

The Lieutenant pouts, Jungkook doesn't missed the way that Hoseok reaches out and nudges Jimin in the ribs, raising his eyebrows suggestively. The security chief knocks him away with an ice-cold glare.

"When will you be finished?" Taehyung asks, lips all droopy.

"Not sure," Jimin says.

"Well, what're you doing?"

Jungkook watches as the tips of Jimin's ears turn pink. He sympathizes.

"T-that's classified," Jimin responds  after a short silence.

"Classified, eh?" Hoseok wiggles his brows.

" _It's ship's business,"_ Jimin screeches so loudly that Jungkook has to resist the urge to cover his ears.

Hoseok backs off, hands in the air in mock-surrender. "Alright, alright. Ships business," he repeats in confirmation.

Taehyung turns to Hoseok. "How about you, hyung, wanna come with me, instead? Sun, sea, surf! Hot, sweaty, shirtless girls running slow-motion through the crystal-clear waters? Bottomless, sugary cocktails that we can charge to the ship!? Doesn't it sound like fuuu --"

"Why have I heard this before?" The engineer quirks his head, but the corner of his lip turn up in amusement. "I'd love to, kiddo, but I must, regrettably, turn you down. I have an incredible amount of diagnostics to perform before I can clock out. Needa get them finished before the conference starts."

Taehyung's lips turn downward in defeat. "I guess I'm off on my own then," he sighs.

Jungkook's hands clasp and unclasp at his sides, but he says nothing.

They stand in silence for a moment before Jimin perks up. "Hey, TaeTae, why don't you take Jungkookie with you?" The security chief turns to the crewman. "You're off duty now, right?"

Going down to Risa with Taehyung was a fun fantasy when Jungkook had lived it in the privacy of his own mind. Now that Jimin suggests it out-loud, Jungkook would rather take his day off on the ships hull, in the cold, dead, silent expanse of space.

Taehyung's eyebrows raise, a smile forming on his lips. "Oh, really, Jungkookie!? Really?! Are you off duty right now?! Are you free!?"

And with Taehyung smiling at him like that, boxy-grin, his long fingers reaching out to pull persuasively at Jungkook's sleeve, he can't fucking think.

So he just nods his head. Seals his fate.

"Oh my God, yes! Yes!" Taehyung literally _bounces_ with joy. "It'll be so fun, Jungkookie! Sun, sea, surf! Hot, sweaty, shirtless boys and girls running slow-motion through the crystal-clear waters!! Bottomless, sugary cocktails that we can charge to the ship! I can't _wait!!"_

The ensign manages to smile weakly.

In reality, there's only one hot, sweaty, shirtless boy that he cares about seeing.

* * *

 

Jimin pulls at the base of his uniform, runs his hands through his honey-colored hair once _(just once)_ before he reaches out, and presses a short finger against the call-pad.

"Enter," he hears on the far side of the partition.

The doors slide open, and Jimin steps inside.

What he sees throws him, a little.

He'd figured that the commander's quarters were going to be a lot more _Vulcan;_ he was expecting spartan decor and a monochrome color-scheme. While the fabrics in the room are, mostly, black and grey and white, it's the rest of the space that makes him quirk his brow. It's filled with art, some on the walls, some standing on small display cabinets that litter the space. There's pictures, mostly of himself and... and the Captain... and the _doctor_? There's one particular shelf on the far side of the room that's filled, practically to the brim, with trophies and awards, some of which - most of which - Jimin doesn't recognize.

But what throws the young lieutenant the most is none of those things.

Instead, it's the old, deep-brown piano that sits, practically centered, against the main wall. Next to it are books and books, and piles and piles of music and manuscript.

Something lurches a little inside Jimin's chest but he has no way to attribute meaning to the sensation.

"It was my mother's," the commander clears his throat, suddenly, and Jimin brings his eyes around to meet the Vulcan's gaze. He looks almost sad. "She taught me how to play a long time ago."

Jimin wets his lips, shifting uncomfortably. "I didn't know you were into music," he whispers when he's able to locate his voice.

The commander blows a stream of air out of his nose. If he wasn't Vulcan, Jimin might've called it a laugh.

"It is a hobby from another time," the commander says quietly. "I could not quite let it go."

"You should play for us, sometime." _For me. You should play for me._

The commander blows another stream of air out of his nose. "That is never going to happen."

Jimin tries not to look disappointed; he's not sure if he's successful by the way that the commander's eyes rake across his features and his brow quirks quizzically.

They both stay silent for a long moment, some strange sort of tension filling the air that Jimin can't quite place.

The Lieutenant can't deny that he's _interested_ in the commander. Ever since that day aboard the Sutherland - or, what was just an _illusion_ of the Sutherland - he can't shake the strange feeling that curls inside him whenever the commander's gaze falls on him. It's something about the way that his features remain so apathetic, so passive, so bored, and yet... there's always something inside his eyes. There's always something glinting deeply, darkly, in his vision that makes Jimin's toes curl inside his shoes.

He longs to know what the commander is thinking when he looks at him like that. He craves that knowledge so desperately that it has, in a way, become his own, personal deep-space mission.

The commander breaks the silence. "Come in," he says, motioning for Jimin to step-away from the doorway. "Take your jacket off, as well. You may experience a steady rise in body-temperature as we work. It's nothing to be concerned about, but you may feel uncomfortable if you are too-heavily clothed; wear something lighter, next time."

"Next time, sir?"

"Yes," the commander sighs. "This is not what you, on Earth, would call an 'easy-fix'. This will take time, both inside and outside of this room; it will take energy, both yours and mine; and it will be difficult, lieutenant. Are you ready for that?"

Jimin purses his lips and takes a moment to consider.

"Yes, sir." He says, finally.

"Good," the commander nods. "If you can learn to execute what I am going to try to teach you then you will need never fear a loss of control again."

The lieutenant smiles. "That would be nice, sir."

Yoongi nods. "Yes, it does sound that way, does it not?"

Jimin steps further into the room and he can't help the way that his brain, practically against his will, commits the scent of the commander's quarters to memory.

He's done this before. He's smelled that scent a hundred times and mentally smacked himself for breathing in - for leaning towards reactively before he can even, consciously, realize what he's doing, and stop himself from doing it. 

The commander smells so... human. It's a homely sort of smell: a little bit of incense but mostly like skin, fresh and clean from the shower. As Jimin breathes it in he can smell the commander's soap, and the zesty, tangy aroma of his shampoo. It's maddening, frankly, that the Vulcan also smells like clean laundry, dried by the sea-salty wind and the bright burning sun of the town where Jimin grew up. He doesn't know why his brain attributes the commander's scent to _home_ , but he tells himself it must be his fabric softener.

Maybe it's the same brand his mother uses, he rationalizes.

Jimin slowly, and with his eyes turned towards the floor, begins unbuttoning his uniform. With the commander watching him, even though he looks strictly disinterested, the whole motion feels awkward, and intimate. Eventually, with the buttons undone, the lieutenant shrugs the jacket off of his shoulders, pulling his arms out of each sleeve with a reserved, lazy sort of motion. In reality, he's embarrassed. He can't even really place why, but something about taking his uniform off in-front of the First Officer of his ship makes him feel exposed.

As exposed as if he were stark naked.

In reality he keeps his pants _right_ where they are, and adjusts his cotton undershirt so that it's neatly tucked into his trousers. He can feel, now, how cool the air of the commander's quarters is against his bare arms and shoulders; he shivers involuntarily, feeling goosebumps prick over his arms and legs.

"Sorry," the commander mumbles. "I turned down the ambient temperature so that you do not feel uncomfortable later on. If you are too cold I will adjust it."

Jimin pulls his arms into his chest, wrapping them around each-other. "No, that's okay, sir." He smiles. "I'll get used to it in a sec - I'm usually a furnace anyway."

The corner of the commander's lip quirks and he starts pulling at the buttons of his collar, shrugging off his own jacket far quicker than Jimin's modesty had allowed.

The Triptych's science officer is small. Almost as small as Jimin, the lieutenant notes with a pleased sort of feeling. He has tiny, kitten-like features: pouty lips, a little button nose, but sharp, intelligent eyes that shine darkly from beneath his black fringe. He doesn't look very Vulcan, really: not with the way that his hair flops over the top of his slanted brows; his ears are barely pointed, as well, and the Lieutenant notes that his human-parent - his mother, he thinks - must have had very strong genes.

The commander's skin is white and clear. Almost alabaster, and much to his (significant) horror, Jimin imagines the way it might look against his own golden, honey complexion.

_No._

He is not desperate enough to thirst after his superior officer.

He is _not_ desperate enough. No matter how clear and pearlescent the commander's skin looks in this light; no matter how much like home he might smell...

"Come," the commander instructs, motioning to the floor. "Sit down."

They take their seats over two small cushions, positioned on either side of one, lone candle. Jimin watches the commander situate himself, his legs folded underneath him, palms resting laxly against his thighs and turned up towards the ceiling. Jimin copies his posturing, though his own hands feel awkward and unsettled as he tries to rest them in a way that doesn't look forced, or uncomfortable. Realistically, he has no idea what he's doing. Meditation is not really one of his _things_.

"Are you comfortable?" The commander asks gently, motioning down at the way his legs are folded underneath him. "You'll be sitting like this for a while."

Jimin nods. "Yeah, I'm a dancer so this is fine. I'm pretty flexible."

The commander stares at him, brow quirking, and Jimin is glad that the lights are so low because he's pretty sure he's turned bright crimson.

"Have you engaged in any sort of practiced meditation before, lieutenant?"

The security officer shakes his head. "No, not really."

"Many believe that meditation is about clearing the mind - thinking and feeling nothing. That is incorrect. Meditation is a state of being. Existing in the moment; focusing on neither the past, nor the present, or future. In meditation we allow our mind to flow freely between thoughts, latching on to no rumination or idea - rather, allowing each to come in and out of existence organically."

Jimin purses his lips. "That sounds do-able."

"It is," the commander assures. "When I am through with you, you will be quite adept."

 _When I am through with you_... Sometimes the commander speaks so casually that it takes the lieutenant off guard.

The commander lights the candle. "Some people like to close their eyes, some keep them open. Some lie down, some sit up. There is no right or wrong way to meditate. As I said, it is a state of being, and all states, by nature, are divergent... transient."

Jimin watches the commander shut his eyes.

If he wanted, he could just watch him like this. It was almost private, the access he was being given to gaze across at his superior officer. He could sit here for an hour and count his lashes, or his breaths. He could memorize the lines of his face, or the sharpness of his jaw, or the way that his pink lips sit together in an almost constant pout that is, frankly, starting to bring the lieutenant closer and closer to a really uncomfortable realization.

In the end, Jimin closes his eyes. It was what the commander had done, so if nothing else he could tell himself that he was simply following suit.

"Allow your mind to move freely. Some find it helpful to count their breaths, or heart-beats, to one-hundred. If you feel your mind start to wander - let it."

Jimin settles in and tries his best to follow the commander's instructions.

It's easy to allow his mind to wander. There's always so much going on inside that he's usually clamping down; it's almost pleasant to just let his thoughts do whatever they want. He thinks of the commander, of his smell and of his room, being so close to him, legs underneath him, eyes closed. He thinks of the ship and his job as Chief of Security: it'd been a chill couple months. Since the anomaly nothing crazy had happened, everything had been relatively standard - day to day life aboard a starship sort of stuff. He thought of the captain - he was a good captain. A great captain. Tall, charismatic, funny if not a little hare-brained. He thought of Taehyung, his best-friend; Hoseok his old-friend; blushing bumbling Jungkook, his new friend.

Eventually, he thought of not much at all, he just enjoyed the dim, singular warmth of the candlelight against his cheek and the way his heart felt, beating slowly inside his chest.

The commander's voice was quiet, when he spoke. "You are doing well," he said. "I am going to attempt to initiate a mind-meld, now. It will not be painful, but it may feel strange. I will be inside your mind and you will, to a certain degree, be inside mine. I am going to direct your mind to take me where it needs to go. I do not know where we will end up. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Jimin breathes, and his voice sounds too loud and too foreign in such a quiet space.

He feels the tips of the commanders fingers press against his face: one into the flesh by his nose, underneath his eye; another above his brow; and a thumb below his lip, near the outside corner of his chin.

Jimin's lips part and he's too outside of his own head - or _inside_ of it, maybe - to be embarrassed.

The commander's voice fills the space once again. It's delicate, but purposeful.

"My mind to your mind,"

Jimin feels pressure against the points of his face.

"My thoughts to your thoughts,"

Something brushes at the edge of his consciousness, like water lapping around, tickling his toes.

"Our minds are melding,"

That feeling grows stronger, and Jimin can almost _sense_ the commander perched at the edge of his thoughts.

"Our minds are becoming one."

He's engulfed.

* * *

 _Jimin's whole wold is_   ** _red_** _._

_Everything is red. So damn red. He had no idea that red could ever be this red, and yet it is._

_And it's **loud** ; it's so loud that Jimin's having trouble even thinking straight. His own voice, inside his own mind, is barely audible. It's trying to scream instructions at him; it's trying to save his life but it's just too loud. He can't hear a thing. His whole world is sirens and red. Just sirens and red. That goddamn red; filling up everything around him like a severed artery spurting blood.  _

_"Red Alert; Red Alert; Intruder Alert - All Levels; Intruder Alert; Emergency Evacuation; Protocol One is in effect; This Is Not A Drill; Evacuate; Evacuate,"_

_And then again, "Red Alert; Red Alert; Intruder Alert - All Levels," over and over and over until Jimin can't even remember his own name._

_Where did he come from? How did he get here? Wasn't he just graduating from the Academy? Wasn't Taehyung just in front of him, eyes crinkled at their corners, smile shining so brightly that Jimin almost felt like he might have to shield his eyes. Wasn't he too drunk on Klingon Blood Wine to even feel his face anymore? Wasn't he dancing, Taehyung's arm slung around his shoulder, singing at the top of their lungs. Wasn't he so happy that he thought he was going to die?_

_**Is he going to die?** _

_His security training kicks in and his body moves of it's own accord. He's fast and certain; he's strong - so strong - stronger than he appears: stronger than anyone knows. He's crawling through a jeffries tube when an explosion so violent it bursts his left ear drum smacks into his side, knocking him unconscious for who  knows how long. It doesn't stop him. He keeps going; keeps crawling; deeper and deeper into the bowels of the station._

_When he sees the Borg for the first time it's someone he knows. They're no longer them, though, are they? They're a drone. The recognition that Jimin believes he sees in their eyes is nothing more than his own imagination playing tricks on him. He hasn't eaten in two days. He's dehydrated. He walks past his friend and his heart feels cold as ice. But it's not his friend anymore, is it? It's okay to leave him behind, isn't it? It's okay to leave him behind because it's not even his friend in there anymore. So it's okay to leave him behind._

_Jimin leaves him behind._

_He leaves him behind._

_He left so many of them behind._

_He just left them._

_He left them_

_He_

_He just **left** **them** _

**_He left them behind and then..._ **

_Yoongi's hands look so nice as they dance across the keys of his piano. Yoongi likes the way that Jimin's hands look as they fly across the dark security panel; the way his lip looks perched between his teeth --  
_

"Lieutenant,"

_Jimin is so hot that the hands against his neck feel like a sweet, cool relief._

"Lieutenant, you must open your eyes now."

_He's so hot that he wonders how he's even alive. He wonders whether he's woken up in hell. That's what he deserves after all. That's what he deserves for leaving so many behind._

"Jimin."

* * *

He calls the younger's name and his eyes, finally, pull open.

"Yoongi," the lieutenant breathes, confused.

His skin is hot. Unbelievably hot. Yoongi had expected, anticipated, this and yet he's still surprised by the fire that burns underneath the tips of his fingers. He searches the lieutenant's expression, and finds two, wide frantic eyes zipping across his features, out of control.

"Jimin," he soothes. "It's okay. You can come back now. You can come back to me now."

He brushes the tips of his fingers through the lieutenant's sweaty bangs, freeing them from his forehead.

Jimin leans into his touch.

"Yoongi?" He says the commander's name again, but this time it's a question.

"Yes," the Vulcan answers. "Yes, I am here, Jimin."

He could move his hands away from the lieutenant's neck now. He _should_ move his hands away. But he doesn't, he just presses his cool fingers against the young officer's flesh: his jaw, his cheek, his forehead. He cards through the lieutenant's hair once more. This time he draws it all off-of his face, pushing the strands backwards, towards the nape of his neck. 

Yoongi should pull his hands away.

He should, but it seems to soothe the officer: that's what Yoongi tells himself. It seems to soothe the scared young man in front of him and that's why he does it.

To soothe him.

To soothe Jimin.

"Yoongi I was - I was," he sucks in a shaky breath. "I was back there - I was back there again and I was --"

The lieutenant starts to cry and Yoongi feels a part of himself - a very old, human part he'd almost forgotten entirely - stir awake inside him.

Would it be too much to wipe away Jimin's tears.

Would it be too much?

Yoongi pulls his hands away.

"I was b-back there. I was b-back and I t-thought I w-was --"

"I know," the commander breathes. "I know."

"Will it b-be like th-that every time?" The lieutenant's eyes search his face. "Will I go b-back th-there e-every time, Y-Yoongi?"

The commander nods solemnly. "Yes," he breathes. "Yes, you will. But one day you will know that it is not real and you will be able to shape the memory however you wish. You will know what happened, you will see it all around you - but you will be in control."

"I-I don't kn-know if I c-can,"

"You can, Jimin. You're strong," Yoongi reaches forward and wipes at Jimin's tears with the tips of his fingers. "You're so strong. You're stronger than anyone knows."

"I-I don't feel strong." He admits, though he's already half-way to pulling himself together. "I feel weak. So weak."

Yoongi wonders whether he'd be this open, this honest, if he wasn't still recovering from the meld.

The commander pushes himself from the ground, leaving the shaking lieutenant for a moment so that he can lean towards the replicator and order two glasses of hot Vulcan tea. He takes them both in his hands and finds that he, too, is shaking. Yoongi brushes it off as transference from the meld and takes a moment to steady himself before he sits on the ground, handing a glass of the hot liquid to a still-shaking Jimin.

"Drink," he instructs. "It will help you calm down."

The lieutenant blows cutely at the steaming cup in his tiny hands and Yoongi has to do the absolute most to suppress a smile.

Again, he writes it off as transference from the meld.

He doesn't know why but he feels the urge to apologize to the younger officer. Yoongi hadn't done anything except exactly what Jimin requested, but either way, he still felt the urge to tell the young-man how sorry he is.

"How do you feel?" He says instead.

"Shaken," the lieutenant admits. "But the tea is nice - thank you, Yoongi."

_Yoongi._

Jimin keeps calling the commander by his name, and the commander has no desire to correct him. He tries to tell himself that he does, but he doesn't.

It's fine, though. It's just transference from the meld.

It's just transference.

When they both finish their tea, Jimin pushes himself from the ground with a huff. He's shrugging his jacket over his still-damp-with-sweat undershirt, grimacing as the fabric clings to him at every point.

"You can use the facilities here, if you need." Yoongi offers. Which is fine because he would offer anyone in Jimin's position access to his shower.

"No," the lieutenant shakes his head. "Thank you, Yoongi, but that's okay. I'm exhausted - I think I'm just gonna go back to my quarters and sleep for a bit."

The commander nods his head softly, pulling his own jacket from the chair beside him and shrugging it over his shoulders. He walks to meet the lieutenant at the door, eyes grazing over his form.

How is it possible that he looks smaller? Yoongi doesn't know - nonetheless he suddenly feels this overpowering urge to _protect_.

"What you did on Wolf 359," he takes in a breath. "You should let that guilt go; you --"

"Please don't call me a hero." The lieutenant say suddenly. "Everyone always calls me a hero, but if - if those words came out of your mouth I think I'll die."

Yoongi resists the urge to reach towards the younger. "I wasn't going to say that," he whispers. "I was going to say you should let go of your guilt because _you did what you had to do_. It wasn't right, it wasn't wrong, it wasn't what you wanted, but it was all you could do, Jimin. You did what you had to."

Their eyes lock and the commander feels that human _thing_ again. The lieutenant looks grateful.

"Thank you, Yoo --" Jimin blushes. "I mean, um, thank you, _sir_. I'm sorry," he turns a deeper crimson. "I've been calling you by your name all this time."

The commander breathes. "It is alright," _it isn't_. "When we are working in here you may call me by my name." _He shouldn't._

Jimin presses against the door-pad, and screens pull open.

He takes a step out and turns around, his features impossibly soft. "Thank you... Yoongi." He whispers it so low that even a passerby wouldn't have heart.

When Jimin is gone, Yoongi sags against the door.

 _Transference_ , he tells himself.

_It's just transference._

* * *

 

Jungkook is having a hard time.

He's having a really, really hard day.

Taehyung is standing in front of him, arms outstretched, his left hand clutching a bottle of sunscreen and his right hand wrapped around the hem of his shirt.

And then he's pulling his shirt over his head, and his beautiful torso is on display, and his skin looks so gorgeous and his body is soft but also lean and _strong_.

His chest especially. Jungkook notes the beautiful curve of the muscle beneath his flesh and he resists the urge to reach out and touch him. He wants to touch him. He really wants to.

And then Taehyung gives him permission.

"Could you put this sunscreen on my back?" It's so innocent, the way he says it, as if he doesn't realize what he's asking. "I want to look pretty at the show tomorrow night so I can't risk getting burnt."

Jungkook just stares.

"Will you?" Taehyung asks again, this time thrusting the bottle right into Jungkook's half-open palms.

Jungkook just does what he always does. Jungkook _blushes_.

Taehyung giggles. "It's just sunscreen, Jungkookie, you don't have to feel so _nervous_. Gosh you're loud today."

The ensign knows that the lieutenant can read his emotions. That's why he's so dangerous. That's why it's so impossible to be around him when Jungkook feels like this. He's just lucky that Taehyung isn't fully telepathic. If he was, he'd be able to read Jungkook's thoughts; he'd know that the ensign felt nervous, but he'd also know _why_.

Jungkook's crushing on him. He's crushing on him _hard_.

"U-uh, sorry." The crewman mutters. "Y-yeah I can do that. U-um, turn around?"

Taehyung shoots him a grin and spins. "Warm it up in your hands first, would you! I hate it when you put it on and it's all cold and shit, that's the worst."

"U-um, okay."

Jungkook pops open the sunscreen cap, and starts pouring the clear fluid into his hands. He probably takes too much, but he's so busy looking at the wide, soft slopes of Taehyung's shoulders, the clear, lovely plains of his back, that he can't focus at all on the task at hand. He stars rubbing the ointment between his hands and the sound is so lewd and disgusting that Jungkook flinches, turning red as a tomato. He's lucky that Taehyung can't see him.

But he can _feel_ him, can't he?

If he can, he says nothing.

When he deems the sunscreen sufficiently-warmed-up, Jungkook's hands hover over the top of Taehyung's shoulders. He isn't sure if he's being silly - he'd performed _way_ more sexually explicit acts as a cadet at the Academy, after all - but this feels like a moment. This is the first time he gets to touch the lieutenant. Maybe it's because he's such a real-life loser, but it feels important. It feels like something he needs to commit to memory.

He rests his hands against the back of Taehyung's shoulders and the feeling of the elder's skin against his is better than any synthetic drug he's ever tried in his life. Taehyung doesn't react, short of a little hum indicating that the sunscreen was, in fact, not cold. Jungkook begins running it across his skin, down his spine, over his waist, all the parts of the young pilot that he couldn't see beyond his Starfleet uniform.

God, he wants to bury his nose in the crook of Taehyung's neck and _inhale._ Will his skin taste like the salt that lingers in the sea-side air. Would Taehyung like that? Would he suck in a breath, head falling back, resting against Jungkook's shoulder as the younger sucked a mark into his flesh? Would someone like Taehyung ever let someone like Jungkook - sad, awkward, blushy, stammering Jungkook - do something like that to him?

God he wanted to do so many things to him.

Taehyung stood up straighter, head whipping about. "Did you see someone!? Is there someone hot running slow-motion through the crystal-clear waters?!"

Jungkook's hands freeze against his skin.

"Where are they?!" The lieutenant twists around, causing Jungkook's hands to slip a little further down his back. "They must be sex-on-legs if they've got you feeling all hot and bothered like _that_!"

Jungkook thinks he's going to throw up.

"Jesus, I'm horny just listening _in_. Where are they, then? Point them out, I wanna see!"

"T-they - they-they're g-gone!" Jungkook shouts just that little bit too loud.

Taehyung flinches and his lips turn downward. "Dammit, fuck. I wanted to thirst! Next time you see someone hot don't keep it to yourself, okay? I don't care if it's a boy or a girl or a quadruped - if they're hot and they're breathing I want you to point them out - don't keep that shit to yourself: that's an order!"

Jungkook nods weakly, unable to speak.

Taehyung turns around when Jungkook stops touching him. "Are you finished back there?"

Sort-of. The ensign nods, anyway.

"Want me do to you?"

_Yes. God._

"N-no t-that's fine. I - I don't burn easy," Jungkook stammers.

"Okay, then." Taehyung looks towards the ensign, a glint in his eyes. "Chase me," he whispers, and sets off towards the water.

* * *

 

It was a great, great day.

Taehyung had worried at first, but Jungkook could be fun when he was calm enough to string three sentences together. Maybe it was the sun, or maybe it was the sea (maybe it was the surf?): either way, as the day rolled forward, as Taehyung splashed Jungkook over and over again, vaulting salty water into his face without remorse, he'd watched the crewman's tight shoulders relax more and more. Soon enough his bunny-smile sprang onto his face so easily that Taehyung wondered whether _this_ was his natural expression.

He felt so happy. The ensign felt so happy that it was making Taehyung dizzy.

The empath's mind was filled with song and the colors of orange and pink and _blue_. Not blue like navy blue, but rather the cool, crystal-aquamarine of the water that surrounded them. That was the color of Jungkook's emotions today. Beautiful and blue, and the scent of oranges, or maybe, even, the slightly sweeter tangerine. It was all there, swirling around Taehyung's brain like a wonderful, happy tornado (if tornadoes could, by nature, be happy): all the lieutenant had to do was bask in it.

He was enjoying himself. Yeah, he was really, really enjoying himself. More than he thought that he could, anymore.

But Jungkook was like a solar-flare. His happiness _burned_ him, but Taehyung couldn't turn away.

By the time the day had come to a close and the sun was setting, falling below the horizon and setting the sky on fire, Taehyung felt giddy with joy and perfectly tired - the kind of tired one felt at the end of their birthday, or Christmas.

The pair of them sat on the sand, passing a vial of Risan Nectar between them.

It was Taehyung, of course, who broke the comfortable silence.

"Why are you so shy?" He asked Jungkook.

The younger was lying at his side, his eyes drifting closed. Taehyung hadn't wanted him to fall asleep, though. If Jungkook fell asleep then the day was over, and the lieutenant wasn't ready for that just yet. Good days like this one - perfectly good, good days - didn't come along all that often.

Jungkook shifted, his emotions turning a little rosy. "I'm not really _this_ shy," he said, his tone drowsy.

Taehyung glanced across at him. "Could've fooled me," he teased.

He thought he saw the whites of Jungkook's eyes flash. Had he rolled them?

"It's this ship," the ensign groaned. "It's everyone on-board this fucking ship." Jungkook was honest when he was tired, Taehyung noted. "You're all so _young_ , and _smart_ , and _charismatic,_ and _handsome_ and all the things I wanna be. It's intimidating."

Taehyung sat quietly for a moment, trying to decide whether he could tease Jungkook some more before he clammed-up and shut-down.

He decided he could. "You think I'm handsome?" The lieutenant said, his tone suggestive.

The whites of Jungkook's eyes flashed again and this time Taehyung was _sure_ he'd rolled them. "You know what I think, Tae."

And yeah, he was right. Taehyung did know. He'd caught that same arousal time and time again through the day, even when they were alone (especially when they were alone), and pieced two and two together. Taehyung might live with his head in the clouds but he wasn't stupid. Jungkook was attracted to him. Even if he wasn't empathic, maybe he would've realized it anyway. It was kind of hard to ignore two dark eyes checking you out when they didn't think you were watching.

In truth, Taehyung was attracted to Jungkook as well. That was allowed, wasn't it? They might serve together on a starship but it didn't change the fact that they were both young-men; they both had all the same parts and all the same hormones and all the same needs. Plus, Jungkook had a bangin' body and a face so handsome from certain angles that Taehyung sometimes felt the need to double take. The kid's jaw was _sharp_ and his eyes were wide and doe-like and he used them to his advantage whenever he could. He had a brilliant, white smile and a contagious voice and thighs that were mildly mouth-watering.

A number of times in the day Jungkook had wrapped his arms around Taehyung's body and lifted him out of the water as if he weighed nothing.

So Jungkook could _lift_ him.

That was hot. Taehyung wasn't about to deny how hot that was.

It didn't change anything though. Jungkook was an Ensign and he was two-years younger than Taehyung. He was the baby of the senior-staff, not even an officer yet, just a crewman with advantages that he'd been afforded due to his acceptance into some academy-program that fast-tracked youths to the captain's chair. It didn't change the fact that Jungkook was like his little brother.

The ensign shifted beside Taehyung, turning onto his hip and stretching out so that the muscles in his core moved enticingly underneath his newly sun-kissed flesh.

Okay, so maybe he wasn't like _his_ little brother. Maybe Jungkook was like his _friend's_ little brother. His friends little brother who was not so little and incredibly hot and lovely in a way that made Taehyung, frankly, a little uncomfortable.

Jungkook sighed and Taehyung turned onto his side to face him. "What's up?" He asked.

The ensigns face contorted into a little pout. "I wish today could last forever. I don't want it to be tomorrow."

"Why?" Taehyung whispered, scared of his answer.

"Tomorrow's the dance thing," he said simply and Taehyung felt himself relax. "I stopped dancing for a reason, ya know? I didn't just stop for fun."

Taehyung's brows quirked. "Why'd you stop?"

The kid huffed. "Stage-fright," he said with a tone of finality. "Crippling fucking stage-fright. It just popped up for no reason one day and it never fucked off."

"No reason at all?"

"Zero," the boy huffed. "I loved dancing - loved dancing on a _stage_ in front of _people,_ even more."

"That's weird," Taehyung mused.

"Yeah, right?" Jungkook ran his free hand through his hair. "I'm gonna fucking choke tomorrow and ruin the whole thing for everyone. I can feel it already. You can feel that right?"

Taehyung paused for a moment. In the corner of his vision the warm, lovely sun-kissed tangerine was fading away; on the edge, just out of sight, was a dark storm cloud that he knew would suffocate him if he let it get too close.

"Yeah," the lieutenant whispered. "I can feel it. It's horrible."

"Fucking awful, right?"

It _was_ awful. It was awful because there were electrical flashes of longing stored inside the viscous anxiety. Jungkook wanted to dance - he wanted to dance _so_ badly that it almost overpowered everything else he was feeling. Almost. He just couldn't quite get over that final hump.

So, Taehyung decided to do something he hadn't done in a _very_ long time.

"Do you want me to help you?" He asked, watching Jungkook with an intense expression.

The younger frowned at him. "What do you mean?"

The lieutenant pouted. "You know I'm only half-betazoid, right? Jin-hyung and I are only half brothers." He watched Jungkook nod. "Well, technically my abilities should be a lot... weaker than my brother's. Sure, he's telepathic and all, and I'm just empathic, but my power and my range are far superior to his. Do you know why that is?"

This time, Jungkook shook his head, but he scooted a bit closer to Taehyung, his interest piqued.

"Most betazoid children aren't born with their telepathic abilities in tact. Most develop them in adolescence. There's sort of, like, an adjustment period, a kind of telepathic puberty where they develop slowly over time. It allows for for the brain to grow  _with_ the abilities, so the youngsters can learn control: siphon-off unnecessary noise, protect themselves against psychic trauma... that kind of shit."

"Makes sense," the ensign mused.

"Mmm, it does." Taehyung rolled onto his back, staring up at the unfamiliar Risan stars. "I was born with my powers," he said quietly. "It happens sometimes, but never before to a betazoid-hybrid. I'm the first," he said with a little laugh.

"The first ever?" Jungkook breathed.

"Ever in recorded history," Taehyung mused. "I'm a freak-of-nature."

"You're special."

Taehyung's eyes whipped across to Jungkook.

"You're not a freak, Tae. You're special."

Jungkook didn't even blush. It made Taehyung feel... uncomfortable, so he laughed it off. "You sound like Jimin," he teased. "He's obsessed with me, too."

When he saw Jungkook's eyes roll in the dark, Taehyung relaxed.

"So, yeah, my empathy is different than other's. And I have all these... abilities, I guess, that I wouldn't ordinarily have."

"Like what?"

"Well mostly it's strength and range, that kind of stuff. But I can also --" Taehyung paused. He shouldn't tell Jungkook this. He's under orders to never tell _anyone_. "I can also m-manipulate emotions."

Jungkook is silent for a long moment. "T-that's... intense."

"I never do it, ever, though," Taehyung started. "I _never_ do it without permission."

Jungkook laughed. "I know, Tae. You'd never hurt anyone. I don't think you're capable, really..."

_If only he knew._

Taehyung pushed those feelings aside. "Well, yeah. I can do all kinds of stuff with that, really. I haven't done it in a long time, but I was th-thinking that - that if you're so nervous for tomorrow I c-could, help you out a little. J-just take the edge off, ya know?"

Jungkook looked across at him.

Taehyung panicked. "O-only if you w-want, of course! I would n-never do anything you d-didn't ask me to d-do. I w-would n-never v-violate you like th-that!"

Jungkook just continued to gaze across at him. "You would do that for me?" He said quietly.

Taehyung pauses. "O-of course. You're my friend, right?"

Jungkook watched him silently for another long moment. "Okay," he said, finally. "Okay, do it. I want you to do it."

Taehyung felt his own eyes widen. "Y-you sure?"

"I'm sure," Jungkook smiled. "What do I have to do?"

Taehyung shot up, crossing his legs in front of him. "Well sit up and come closer, I need to be able to t-touch you. It works better that way. Lasts longer."

In half a second Jungkook was sitting in front of him, their bare sandy-knees touching.

Taehyung reached out and took Jungkook's hands; the younger interlocked their fingers and the empath smiled a little at how eager his young friend seemed to hold his hand. He didn't tease him about it though. The time for teasing was over.

"Okay," Taehyung breathed. "Close your eyes and picture the dance. Picture yourself there and let all the emotions you have flood your mind. I know it's uncomfortable," Taehyung squeezed Jungkook's fingers as a bitter scent filled the air. "If it helps you can give it a color or a scent or a form. It makes it easier for me if there's an image I can use - I dunno I think I'm a visual learner or something..."

Taehyung stayed quiet, watching Jungkook's brow knot as he tried to build a picture in his mind.

"What do you see?" The empath asked him, eventually.

"A storm," Jungkook answered.

 _A storm_. Taehyung smiled. He'd seen the same.

"Your hands got so warm," the ensign whispered.

"Yes," Taehyung said. If Jungkook had looked, he would've seen the empath's eyes turn completely black.

Taehyung felt around in his mind, searching for the origin of the storm.

It wasn't difficult to find. It was raging all around Jungkook's consciousness, the spidery-veins of deep, dark clouds where circling so many aspects of the younger's psyche. It was curled around him like a parasite or a vine, feeding off-of him, sucking him practically dry and then asking for more. Suddenly, it became very clear to Taehyung how significant the younger's anxiety really was. Nothing to tease him about.

It was his monster, and Taehyung knew monsters well.

With almost terrifying ease, the empath reached forward with his own consciousness, peeling away the static clouds, dispersing the dark matter where possible to reveal clear-blue, aquamarine skies. He didn't destroy the storm completely. He could have - easily, he could have - but he didn't.

Taehyung wasn't here to fight Jungkook's monsters for him.

Maybe he could help, though, even if it was just for a little while. With almost no effort, Taehyung took Jungkook's storm and boxed it away; now it was nothing more than a tiny parcel in his mind that he could visit at a later date.

Taehyung smiled. He'd done well.

"Open your eyes, Jungkookie."

The crewmen opened his eyes and Taehyung watched him expectantly, his heart racing inside his chest.

"How do you feel?" He asked quietly.

Jungkook didn't speak, he just leaned forward, pulling lightly against Taehyung's hands, and kissed him.

The empath allowed it. He shouldn't have, but for a moment, he allowed it.

Then he pushed Jungkook away.

"What are you doing?" He asked.

The crewman just blinked at him, confusion clouding his features.

"Jungkook, why did you do that?" He asked again.

But he never got an answer. By the time Taehyung realized he could've just called-out after him, Jungkook was already gone.

The empath was sitting on an empty beach alone, staring off at nothing, his lips still burning, when he felt it.

The _pull_.


	6. What Happens on Risa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is based on an episode of Star Trek: Enterprise - Two Days and Two Nights, S01E25
> 
> AKA Risa: Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> VSA = Vulcan Science Academy  
> Ferengi are these annoying aliens whose whole culture revolves around capitalism, profit and acquisition. They also ugly, and always causing problems. Do a quick google search :) 
> 
> 94 line bondiiiiiiing! Except I guess it's more like, 2394 line ahahahah don't check my math I can assure you that its wrong.

Namjoon takes a tentative sip of his drink and promptly sets it back down on the table, pushing it away.

Why had he ordered Andorian Ale? He must be some kind of masochist.

After wrapping up his work aboard the Triptych, after his disastrous conversation with Jin, Namjoon had one, sole objective:

To beam down to Risa wearing his most hideous, Hawaiian shirt, find the most exclusive bar with the longest cocktail list, plant himself in the corner, drink enough to forget his own goddamn name, maybe find a pretty Risan girl to fuck, take some synthetic drugs, pass out on a beach somewhere, get a massage in the morning, and (of course) charge everything to the ship.

This was a quick itinerary that he'd put together as he rode the turbolift towards transporter room three. His _original_ plan had been much different:

Meet Jin in his office and persuade him to beam down to the surface with him (Namjoon had been wearing his thick-rimmed glasses so it was practically a sure thing); go for a walk along a secluded beach (maybe Suraya Bay or Temtibi Lagoon), brush the back of his fingers against Jin's hand until the betazoid couldn't take it anymore (he would reach out and interlock their fingers, obviously; Jin loved to hold hands); take him on a sunset cruise, watch the doctor's full lips curl around the shell of an oyster as he used his tongue to siphon the delicious morsel into his mouth; kiss him over dessert (tentatively at first, almost shyly; but then passionately, desperately, hungrily); drink a little too much white-wine and find themselves inside the luxurious captain's suite that Namjoon had booked almost two weeks prior; undress Jin slowly, carefully; run his fingers, his lips, across the telepath's flesh; mark him; take Jin into his mouth and _worship_ him; make love to him slowly, fuck into him strongly, hear him cry out in that thick, syrupy voice that would have Namjoon chasing his own release in no time at all; tell Jin he loved him; tell Jin he was sorry; be together with Jin forever from that day forward.

_I'm really not interested in that sort of relationship, with you, anymore._

Namjoon reaches for his drink, downing it in one massive gulp, and the hideous, sharp flavor (that's what he tells himself, at least) brings tears to his eyes.

He should not have signed off on that crew manifest two months ago. He should've seen Jin's name and immediately wrote in to Starfleet command; he should've requested an alternate Chief Medical Officer and saved himself all this fucking regret. 

What did he think was going to happen, realistically? That he and Jin were going to lock eyes after all these years, realize they were still in love, and just pick up where they left off?

Well yeah, he had believed that, actually. He should've known that it was nothing more that a childish fantasy. There was no way Jin was just gonna up and take him back: not after what he'd done all those years ago.

Not after he'd broken Jin's heart.

"Here," someone pulls his drink out of his hand and replaces it with a tall, cold glass of beer. "I can't watch you cringe into your glass anymore. I'll swap you."

The captain looks up from his (new) drink and into the sympathetic eyes of his Chief Engineer. "Commander Jung," he breathes. "What are you doing here?"

"Drinking, obviously," the commander grins. "What are you doing here, sir?"

Namjoon cringes. If one more person calls him _sir_ today, he's going to head out to the beach and promptly drown himself. "We're off duty, just call me Namjoon," he says, bringing the rim of his glass to his lips. "Please," he adds, taking a long draw. 

Beer tastes like beer. It's not _good_ , per se, but it doesn't taste like _him_.

"Easy done, Namjoon," the chief winks at him, already pouring himself another glass of Andorian ale. "You should call me Hope, as well."

The captain's brow quirks. "Hope?"

"Yeah, it's a nickname from my Academy days. I'm trying to bring it back but all the little subordinates are too scared to use it." He down his drink in one-shot.

"Hope it is," Namjoon breathes, taking another long sip.

The chief stays quiet for a long time, but Namjoon can tell there's a question burning at the tip of his tongue; the way he opens his mouth, and closes it; the way his two, oddly placed dimples form on either side, at the top of his mouth, when he scrunches his lips together, before fading away into nothing, over and over.

"Spit it out, Hoseok."

The engineer laughs. "Sorry, Namjoon, I just -- you look fucking _awful_. Did something happen? Wanna talk about it?"

"Nope," he responds, popping the 'p'.

He changes his mind five drinks in.

"'Just," he slurs, "'s just he's always _there_ y'know, 'm always seein' him around 'nd shit; 'salways lookin' at m'with those _eyes_..."

Hobi nods. Five drinks in he wasn't the 'chief', he wasn't 'Hoseok', he wasn't even 'Hope' anymore.

"The doctor?" He asks.

If Namjoon was more sober he would've noticed Hoseok push his third drink to the side, leaving it untouched for the last hour

Namjoon jerks with surprise. "YOU KNOW?" He yells far too loud.

The engineer rolls his eyes. "Joon, I have a PhD in Quantum Mechanics and I'm the Chief Engineer aboard a 24th Century Starship. I can assure you that Warp Field Theory is infinitely more complicated and difficult to decode than the reason you stare at Doctor Kim with puppy-dog eyes every time he enters onto the bridge. I've never seen two people more transparently in love in my entire life, kid."

Namjoon rests his cheek against the table. "He doesn' love me 'nymore."

Hoseok rolls his eyes. "That's not true."

"'e doesn' wanna be with me 'nymore."

This time, the doctor shrugs. "That's possible."

Namjoon is drunk enough to cry and he just barely, _barely_ resists the urge.

"Need 'nother drink," he says, instead.

Hoseok shakes his head. "Oh no, not this time. You needa sober up, like, right now."

"Why wou'd I 'ven do that?" Namjoon laughs, a snort catching at the back of his throat.

Hope grins. "Because, the best way to get over someone is to get _under_ someone and there's two Risan ladies over there who've been giving me the eyes for the past hour, and if you don't pull yourself together and pick one of 'em, I'm gonna leave with both and your sorry ass can find your own way back to the ship."

"'s one of 'em K-Kim Seokjin by 'ny chance?"

"Nope,"

Namjoon lifts his face from the table and turns around.

In the far corner of the room, barely wearing anything, are two Risan girls. Namjoon's vision is a little blurry but he can see, plain as day, how gorgeous they are. They're tall and their bodies are perfectly toned; their full breasts are cupped in nothing more than intricate, gilded bikini's: one is wearing a matching skirt, and the other has a silky, see-through robe tied around her tight, tiny waist; all she has on is bikini bottoms, barely covering her sex.

The robed girl crosses one leg over the other, and Namjoon sees the muscle in her thigh flex as she presses her core into her seat.

"The purple one," Namjoon drawls, turning back around. "Dibs on the purple one."

Hoseok pouts. "Aw man, I wanted the purple one."

"I'm the captain."

"Dammit," the engineer snaps his fingers. "Ya got me there, sir."

"Don't call me sir. Fuckin' hate bein' call'd _sir_ ," Namjoon takes the last gulp of his drink.

"That's unfortunate seeing as you're the captain of a Starship and all..."

"Don't remind me," he pouts, and then, motioning towards the bar: "'m gonna need a glass'f water before we do this."

* * *

 

Jungkook should be having a panic attack. He should be having a massive, lung-burning, finger-tingling, heart-breaking, panic attack.

But he isn't. He's just sitting on the edge of his bed, hands clasped calmly in his lap, as he stares at the wall.

Taehyung had taken his anxiety away. He'd taken Jungkook into his warm hands, and he'd just -- he'd just taken it all away.

So, free from the shackles of fear and doubt, Jungkook had done what Jungkook had wanted to do all day.

Without fear, or hesitation, he'd pulled Taehyung against his chest and kissed him.

He'd kissed him, and now Jungkook was royally, royally fucked.

It had only lasted for a second-and-a-half, but it was, maybe, the best second-and-a-half Jungkook had ever experienced in all his twenty-one years of life. Better than his first kiss, by far; better even than when he'd lost his virginity to Sadie Samuels during orientation week at the Academy; that'd been good too: damn good. To be fair it had only lasted for about a minute and a half before Jungkook prematurely blew his load all over her stomach but, none-the-less, he'd walked out of her quarters less than five minutes later feeling like a new man.

And he felt renewed again, now. But he also felt a little bit sick.

Because Taehyung had pushed him away.

Jungkook had thought - he'd really thought - that he was a fraction of a millisecond off-of returning the kiss. The way their lips slotted together, the way Taehyung's left hand clamped down on his own, the fingers of his right lifting against Jungkook's chest, curling against his skin like he was about to bring him _closer_.

But then he'd used that hand to push him away, leaving Jungkook confused and suddenly cold - colder than he'd ever been in his life, even despite the warm, tropical Risan air.

_What are you doing?_

_Jungkook, why did you do that?_

That's what he'd said. And his face had been unreadable, his eyes so, so dark that for a brief moment Jungkook thought they were completely black. Not just his irises but his whole damn eye, blacker than the night sky above them.

If he was being honest with himself, he'd liked the way Taehyung had looked in that moment. His deep black eyes, his unbelievable face reflecting the white-light of Risa's three moons. He'd looked so alien all of a sudden, but he also looked more like himself than Jungkook had ever seen him. He looked powerful, and regal, and _dangerous_ , in a way. But Jungkook had felt no fear - not even an iota - and not because Taehyung had taken his anxiety away: fear and anxiety were different,after all.

No, Jungkook hadn't been afraid because Taehyung had been inside his mind. He'd felt him in there, ghosting around, picking delicately away at his consciousness, and he _knew_ Taehyung would never hurt him. Never ever. It felt against nature, almost, for Taehyung to hurt him. Only in a world inverted would the half-betazoid ever harm Jungkook.

So when he'd sat there, hand-in-hand with Jungkook, fingers brushing against his chest, skin glowing, eyes burning with ink, hair shining in the darkness, Jungkook had felt...

Love.

Was that possible? He'd only known Taehyung, really, for just over two months. Even so it wasn't as if they'd spent much time together. Jungkook had been actively avoiding him, after all.

So yeah, it was only two months. But it _felt_ like longer. There'd been a time where Taehyung had still been a cadet at the Academy, Jungkook a measly first-year who had sat in the back of his lecture as the young-pilot prattled on excitedly about the Academy's flight team. He'd been so far away from him, right in the far corner of the hall, and he'd still sat on the edge of his seat, eye straining, trying to get a better look at the tall, Nova-Squadron captain with the deep, sugary voice, and the (at that time) blue hair.

Taehyung was the reason he'd joined the squad, in the first place.

He'd watched all his vids. Four years of footage. Four years of Taehyung piloting a squad-vessel as if he was Leonardo da Vinci reborn.

So, even though, in truth, Jungkook had only known Taehyung for two months, he felt like he'd known him for longer.

Far, far longer. Long enough to, maybe, fall in love with him before they'd even properly met.

But now they had, and yesterday they'd spent the most wonderful day together; a perfect day that made Jungkook's heart sing inside his chest just at the mere memory of it.

He'd been with Taehyung on _Risa_. No, they'd been _together_ on Risa. People took there honey-moons on Risa: it was like the romantic capital of the Alpha Quadrant.

And the Risans were so open, so free about love and about sex that the air was practically zinging with it. If Jungkook could feel it, then what must Taehyung have felt?

Suddenly Jungkook hadn't felt bashful about taking off his shirt, or rolling his eyes or laughing at Taehyung.

Or touching him.

The empath had let Jungkook touch him whenever he wanted. Whether it was just a hand against the elder's arm to steady himself, or Jungkook rubbing more sunscreen into his chest where the betazoid could've easily reached; whether it was Taehyung in his arms for a moment longer than necessary, their noses touching, before Jungkook vaulted him into the warm, blue water, Taehyung's screeching laugh ringing in the air, bringing out Jungkook's smile easier than anything else in the _world_.

And there had been a moment - just one moment - where Taehyung had touched him, too.

Jungkook had been standing waist deep in the sea, amazed by how well he could still see his toes in the water below him. He was thinking about diving - there was a coral reef not far off from the resort they were visiting. He knew the visibility would be outstanding, and he hadn't been diving since his training at the academy.

He was about to suggest it to Taehyung when the elder splashed him with a little bit of water.

It hadn't been enough to completely drench Jungkook; it was just a small splash, after all - just enough to dampen the hot skin of his torso so that beads of cool ocean-water rolled sympathetically across his darkening skin, bringing his temperature down a little. It had been nice, actually. Way better than the usual salt-water in the eyes and lungs, coughing, choking, that came with most of the young lieutenant's splashes.

When Jungkook had looked up, broken free of his thoughts by the sea-water, Taehyung had been gazing at him with the most peculiar expression: his head tilted to the side, his eyes a little wide and blinking. Jungkook had been about to ask the young-man what he was thinking when the empath reached out with the tips of his fingers and ran his hands across Jungkook's chest, his cool skin leaving a searing line that started at the center of the ensign's pecs and ran down across his sternum, his ribs, across his abdomen slowly, pulling away just before he reached the seam of his swimmers.

Jungkook had looked up at Taehyung, his hands still a little outstretched, and thought ' _do it again', 'touch me again', 'come closer and touch me again, please'._

The urge, the _pull,_ that he'd felt had been almost enough to spur him into giving voice to those thoughts.

But before he could do anything, Taehyung dropped his hands and vaulted a wave of water so large into Jungkook's face that the crewman's mind had gone blank. He'd spent the next five minutes choking on salt-water, rubbing at his eyes hoping that the stinging would subside, hoping that Taehyung hadn't blinded him forever.

Jungkook sighs at the memory. It's been literally hours and he still feels that searing line of Teahyung's touch. His lips are still burning as well, if he couldn't see himself in the mirror of the opposite wall he might think that he was having some kind of reaction. That's how much his lips sting. Just a moment, less than a moment, even, of contact and Jungkook feels almost as if he's been branded. He feels almost as if Taehyung's marked him forever.

But he hasn't.

Taehyung pulled away.

No, he didn't just pull away, he _pushed_ Jungkook. He physically _pushed_ Jungkook away from him.

And then he'd asked him ' _what are you doing?', 'Jungkook, why did you do that?',_ as if it wasn't already perfectly clear.

Couldn't Taehyung feel what he was feeling? Didn't he already know what was inside the ensigns heart?

Jungkook's head droops into his hands and despite himself, he starts to cry.

Maybe he was wrong.

Maybe Taehyung _could_ hurt him.

* * *

Hoseok wakes up first and has enough time to rationalize that he's made a huge mistake and is, as usual, in deep shit.

His head is pounding and his back is aching; his whole body is contorted at a weird angle and the pressure against his tail-bone is immense.

He wriggles, trying to right himself, but when he pushes against his hands in an attempt to straighten up he finds, with mild horror, that they're bound behind his back.

He opens his eyes.

He's sitting on the cold floor of some kind of storage space. There's boxes all around him, some of them open, their content splayed out across the floor: he sees booze, and jewels and... weaponry.

Weapons aren't allowed on Risa.

His back is pressed against a thin metal beam and his hands are restrained behind him with some sort of wiring that digs uncomfortably into his flesh; the more he struggles against the ties the more it hurts him, etching so deeply into his skin that he worries he might cut himself if he tries to shift further. There's someone behind him, the captain he assumes (hopes), though the figure is sitting completely still. He can feel the warmth of their hands pressed against his own, wrists lying slack inside the bindings.

Hoseok shivers. He's cold because he's not wearing any clothes. Just his underwear.

Fuck.

"Captain?" He calls, trying to turn his head around without jostling his body too much. All he can see is a bare shoulder and a wash of dark, grayish hair. He sighs with relief. "Captain you need to wake up, sir."

There's no response. His commanding officer doesn't even shuffle.

"Captain, seriously. Wake up, sir." Hoseok shifts in the bindings, flinching as they dig uncomfortably into his skin. "Fucking --" he tries to turn around and feels the metal wiring cut into him. "Seriously Namjoon fucking wake up this instant!"

He wraps his fingers around the captain's and _squeezes_ , digging his nails into his flesh.

"'m -- 'mzadi," Namjoon breathes, still not entirely conscious.

Hoseok rolls his eyes. "Not your fucking imzadi, sir, but if we die down here the doctor's gonna kill us both so I really need you to wake the fuck _up_ ," he squeezes the captain's hands again, nails practically breaking through his flesh, in an attempt to wake him.

The captain jostles awake, " _player hater you should love yourself!"_ He screams.

"What?" Hoseok leans against the captain's shoulder. "You with me, sir?"

"I -- what? I h-had a dream I was a rap star and the -- " His body freezes. "Hoseok are we fucking _tied up_ right now??"

"I'm afraid so, sir."

"What the fuck is going on?"

"You don't remember, sir?"

"I think I'm still fucking drunk, please God let this be a dream."

"It's not, sir."

"Only in my most terrifying nightmare would you call me 'sir' that many times in a row, Hoseok."

The chief cringed. Why did these things always happen to him? He was a nice guy, after all - nice to a _fault,_ he'd been told, on occasion. He always told jokes and tried to make people smile. If he sensed one of his engineers was having a hard time he always lent his shoulder and let them end their shift early. Sure, he was kind of shitty when it came to women but he was never _mean_ to them; he just had trouble communicating that he had no interest being tied down. That was always the problem after-all: the girls liked him _too_ much.

Because yeah, he was a great, great guy.

So why was his karma so fucking shitty? Why was he tied up, stripped down to this underpants with his _captain_ , when he should be reaping the rewards of his do-good attitude.

"I'm not waking up," the captain said, breaking Hoseok free of his thoughts. "I'm sitting here in this nightmare and I'm aware and yet I'm not waking up."

The engineer sighed. "Sorry about that, sir."

"What the fuck is happening, Hoseok? I don't remember a fucking thing. One minute I was sipping on a glass of water and the next --"

"The girls, sir," Hoseok said through his teeth. "The Risan girls."

The captain stilled. "Yes, yeah the Risan girls, I remember that too."

"Well they weren't _girls,_ sir."

Silence.

"They weren't even actually _Risan_ , either."

More silence.

"They were Ferengi, sir. Thieves. They took us into the subterranean gardens and they rounded a corner and when we reached them they w-weren't girls anymore - must be some kind of holographic cloaking technology, or something - they tried to make you surrender the ship, sir, but when you told them to resolutely _'fuck off'_ they weren't particularly pleased and one clocked you pretty hard with the base of a phaser... maybe that's why your memory's a bit --"

"Please stop talking."

Hoseok closed his mouth. This was it. Four years at the Academy; four years of post-graduate study in his own free time as he worked his way through the ranks; countless hours crawling through jeffries tubes, his hands covered in grit and grime; six years of following orders; six years of passively allowing superior officers who weren't half as smart or talented as he was to boss him around the engine room as if he wasn't the only one responsible for making the warp core sing.

All those hours and hours, and years and years of hard work and dedication destroyed by one too many Andorian Ales, and two Risan girls who weren't actually Risan and weren't actually _girls_.

The captain was never going to forgive the commander for this. He'd never trust him again.

"I'm so fucking sorry, sir. I should've told you that I'm a walking, talking magnet for bad luck. It's really not safe to be around me, sir. If I'm outside of engineering for too long things like this start happening; I should really just start sleeping next to the warp-core, that seems to be the only thing that keeps me out of trouble, really. Oh God and now I've pulled you into it, as well. My first fucking command position and I've gone ahead and gotten my fucking _captain_ kidnapped and now we're gonna di --"

"Jesus Hoseok, calm down. It's not even your fault, anyway."

"I p-picked the girls, sir?"

"Yeah but I was literally there for the same reason, I just hadn't got to it yet. If you hadn't been there I just would've passed out on the table and they probably would've taken me alone, and then I would've been _royally_ fucked."

Hoseok chews on his bottom lip.

"At least if we're together we can try to figure something out. I've got a fucking _monolithic_ headache, though, so you're probably gonna have to do most of the thinking."

"Shit, sir, I'm so sorry about this."

"Fuck, it's _fine,_ Hoseok. I mean it's not _fine_ but it's _fine_ , ya know?"

"Y-yes, sir."

"And stop fucking calling me 'sir' already. We're still off duty, remember?"

"I-It makes me feel better, sir."

"Uhh, why?"

"I-If I call you sir then I can almost convince myself I haven't lead my new friend to certain death."

"But it's cool if it's your captain?"

"Cool-er, sir. It's cool-er"

"Well don't tell anyone else that, Jesus. But it makes my cold dead heart feel a little bit less cold and dead to know that you consider us _friends,_ Hope."

The chief grinned, despite himself. "Well you have _cried_ in front of me."

The captain stills. "No, there was no _crying_. I don't remember any crying."

"You also don't remember getting clocked in the head with a phaser, so..."

"I didn't cry."

"Three times."

"Negative. Sorry but you are incorrect."

Hoseok laughs a little. "It's perfectly okay and normal to be heartbroken, Joon. You might be the captain of a starship now but you're still human. I'd be worried if you _didn't_ feel like you'd been 'bat'leth'd in the chest'." Hoseok would've used his fingers as air quotes but, unfortunately, his hands were still tied.

"Did I say that?"

"Yep. While you were crying the second time."

"Jesus Christ," the captain breathes. "That's so inappropriate. I'm sorry."

"Don't be ridiculous, cap. I might be your subordinate _technically_ , but you and I are the same age, we're on the same ship, and in the same crew. We're family now."

Namjoon goes silent.

"Joon-ah?"

There's a sniff. "S-sorry I'm still here I just -- you j-just caught me o-off guard w-with that one, is all."

"Jesus, sir, are you _crying?"_

There's a teary laugh. "I'm a _crier_ okay?!" He takes a deep breath. "It's just that -- T-that's all I want for this crew. F-family. Th-that's all I want." 

Hoseok laughs. "Well I'd say we're well on our way. Things are going well - morale is high - everyone's excited for the future. These things take time, Joon-ah. Don't need to force it."

"I g-guess with everything happening between Jin and I -- w-well I figured everyone w-wasn't doing so well."

"It's all in your imagination, cap."

Another sniff. "Y-you sure?"

"Certain."

The captains breathing levels out. "Th-that's good news," he says, finally.

"Can't believe we had to get kidnapped, stripped and tied up by two Ferengi thieves to have this conversion."

There's a long moment of silence. "I'm just still trying to find middle-ground, y'know. What I can say and what I can't. What's appropriate and what isn't, that kinda stuff."

"You haven't spoken to Commander Min about this?"

"Ahh," Namjoon shuffles. "We have... _spoken_. Sometimes I feel like I'm just too emotional for him, ya know?"

The chief nods. Then he realizes Namjoon can't actually see him so he says, "yeah, that makes sense."

"He's also my best friend in the world," the captain admits. "He was there when it all went down w-with Jin. Sometimes I feel like he's too close. When I got this command over him I felt -- awkward. I guess. He's older, y'know?"

"Didn't we all graduate together?"

"Yeah well, Yoongi-hyung did a few years at the VSA before he transferred across to Starfleet. I was at the Academy at fifteen --"

"Wait, shit, really? So we _didn't_ graduate together?"

"No, well, we _did_ , technically. I was probably already wrapping up my Masters at that stage, though."

"Wow, shit. You're like... some kind of prodigy, then?"

Namjoon shuffles. "You're the chief engineer of a 24th century starship and you have a PhD in Quantum Mechanics and Warp Field Theory, Hoseok. I'm a xenolinguist."

"Hey, xenolinguistics is hard shit. How many languages you speak?"

"Um..." There's a pause as the captain deliberates. "Um forty-six, I think? Last time I checked?"

"Last time you _checked?_ Shit, remind me to disable the universal translator. We obviously don't need it and I could re-route the power to the warp-drive to maximize efficiency."

Namjoon scoffs. "We're already running at 113 percent, though."

"It's one-sixteen, now."

"One-sixteen?"

"Yep."

"Shit, you're good. Remind me to give you a raise."

"A raise, cap?"

Namjoon laughs. "Ahh, it's this old human concept. Never mind."

The pair fall into affable silence, just enjoying each others company.

Hoseok is the first to shift. "Uhh, Namjoon?"

"Yeah, Hope?"

"We're still kidnapped, sir."

"Oh. We are. Fuck."

* * *

Taehyung steps onto the bridge and his body is pulled towards Jungkook completely free of his consent. Self restraint is not really his strong-suit, but he employs all of it, none-the-less, and turns towards the command center, eyes falling on an unbothered Commander Min and a _very_ _(very)_ bothered Seokjin. 

"You requested my presence on the bridge, Commander?" At the sound of Taehyung's voice, Jungkook's emotions go haywire, and the lieutenant brings a hand to his temple, rubbing firmly in a circle in a futile attempt to diffuse the pressure.

"Yes, Lieutenant. I am sorry to disturb you when you are off-duty however I --" The Commander quirks his brow. "Are you quite alright, Lieutenant?"

Taehyung's eyes flash to Jin, who watches him with an intense and wary gaze. "Yes, sir, I'm fine. It's just a headache. It'll pass."

"If you're sure, Lieutenant."

"I'm sure. How can I help, sir?"

"It is the captain. His duty shift began two hours ago and yet, as you can see, he remains absent." The commander shifts in his chair, his gaze falling onto Jimin, and his emotions flare oddly. "Lieutenant Park?"

It's not as if Taehyung misses the shift; it's just that being an empath means he's also a vault for the secrets of those around him. No one can ever know the things he knows. Those private and hidden feelings that should never pass beyond the bounds of one's own mind - Taehyung keeps them in a treasure box to which only he has the key.

"Ship's log shows he beamed down to the surface at 2100 hours local-time, sir." Jimin is red. Though not his usual red. It's a different kind of red that makes Taehyung feel as though he should avert his eyes.

No one will ever know.

The commander turns back to face Taehyung. "We have made several attempts at establishing contact but have, thus far, been unsuccessful."

" _I said something to him. Something awful. I'm worried, Tae. I'm really worried."_

The empath's eyes flit to his brother. " _Can't you sense him?"_

Jin shakes his head imperceptibly. " _I went down to the surface and everything but there's no sign of him."_

Taehyung purses his lips. _"You used to be able to sense him across continents, Jin."_

_"I can't feel him anymore."_

And the heartbreak is so intense that Taehyung, himself, chokes down a sob. 

"I am sorry but it would be more efficient if you refrained from communicating telepathically for the time being."

Taehyung's eyes flash back to the commander. "S-sorry sir, it's a habit. We were just discussing whether the doctor was aware of him telepathically at any stage."

"I-I wasn't, sir." Seokjin's eyes fall to the floor but Taehyung doesn't need to see them to know they're probably rimmed with red.

"Hence why we have brought you to the bridge, Lieutenant. I understand that you may be capable where Jin was not."

Taehyung hides a cringe. The commander has no idea how much those words hurt his brother, but the empath knows. He can feel it in real time.

"I should be able, sir."

"Do you need to transport to the surface?"

Taehyung cringes again. "N-no, sir. I can do it from here."

The commander's brow quirks but he doesn't _say_ anything. He's impressed though. Taehyung can sense that much.

And he likes it, he realizes. He keeps waiting for his new crew to judge him, to screw up their noses and call him a freak. But no one does. Roberts had been the only one and Namjoon had gotten rid of him promptly. Since then, every time he does something with his abilities, even if it's only something small - patting a member of his team on the back and giving them a sympathetic smile when they're having a bad day - it garners nothing but positivity from the people around him. They _like_ his abilities. They're not afraid of him.

Jungkook had called him special.

 _Jungkook_.

Taehyung wants to close his eyes against the pleasure even the thought of his name brings. And the ensign is white hot behind him. While he can sense everyone else in the room they can't compare to the flare of light that is Jeon Jungkook. It terrifies Taehyung how strongly he's bonded to the crewman. He pegs it down to the fact that he'd been right inside his mind, using his empathic abilities in a way that he hadn't for so long.

That's how he rationalizes his feelings. The alternative is far too scary.

"Is there anything you need, Lieutenant? I apologise but I am not well versed on the intricacies of your empathic abilities."

Taehyung smiles at the commander kindly. "That's okay, sir. No one really is. It would be helpful if I had a private space? Also if someone who knows the captain well comes with me then I can use them as a sort of... beacon, I guess. It will help me locate the captain."

"I can do it," Seokjin says quickly.

Taehyung flinches. He wants to let his brother down telepathically, as if that might save him some hurt, but he can't. "Uh, maybe not this time doctor... I think it would be better if --"

"I will do it," the commander stands up. "Will the observation lounge be sufficient, Lieutenant."

"Yes, sir. That'll be great."

"Alright, then. After you," the commander motions to a door at the rear of the command center. "Lieutenant Park," that weird flare of emotion, once again. "You have the bridge."

"Yes, sir." Jimin smells like clean laundry, and lime.

Although Taehyung sets off first, the commander passes by him quickly, his emotions crackling in his wake.

Taehyung can't focus on him, though. He can't focus on anything but the ache in his bones at the knowledge that in less than ten seconds he and Jungkook aren't going to be in the same room anymore. He hates it. He hates the idea; he fucking hates it, and what's worse: he can't understand where all these feelings are coming from. He can't even find that line between himself and Jungkook. Everything is blurring into one and he can feel himself being torn in two directions: the way his feet move, and the conn, where the ensign sits at the front of the ship.

So he can't help himself. He turns around, glancing over his shoulder in Jungkook's direction.

The fact that the ensign hasn't turned to look at him, as well, hurts more than anything he could possibly imagine. It's like getting sucker-punched in the chest and he feels the urge to rub his hand against his heart in the hopes that it might diffuse some of the pain. He feels dizzy and he feels sick and he wants to go back to his quarters and sleep for a week. Maybe then these feelings will be dead and he can get back to work.

But when his gaze passes across his brother's face as he turns back towards the door of the observation lounge, he sees and hears the one thing that makes him feel as though his feet have been swept out from underneath him.

" _Oh no, Taehyungie..."_

And sympathy. 

His brother knows exactly how he feels. 

* * *

 

"Just a little further," Namjoon winces; he can feel the bindings cutting into this wrists but he knows that if he shifts just a little bit further, he'll be able to break free.

"That fucking _stings_ ," Hoseok is shifting in the opposite direction and the wires are pulling free.

"I know, just a little bit further, Hope!" They keep twisting awkwardly and Namjoon feels the metal buckle against his skin.

It's a slow process, but the cheap, thin wiring finally pulls apart and the captain draws his hands free with a low groan.

Looking down, his wrists are shredded. The damage isn't so severe that he needs to be worried, but it's bad enough that it fucking _hurts_ and bright red, fresh blood oozes out of a few of the deeper cuts. He grimaces. Namjoon hates blood. Which is awkward because the love of his life is a doctor and he's the captain of a starship and blood is pretty much guaranteed in his line of work. Also, he hurts himself an uncomfortable amount of times in a day. If Hoseok is a magnet for bad luck, and Namjoon is a magnet for injury - the pair probably shouldn't hand out together.

Fuck it, though. He's decided he likes the Chief.

"How's your wrists, Hope?"

"They're fucking sore, but I think it's fine. Nothing too severe."

"Right well," Namjoon pushes up off of the floor and takes a moment to steady himself. His head is still pounding - worse even, now, than before - he feels disgusting and sweaty and clammy and cold and he isn't wearing any clothes.

He looks across at the chief who doesn't seem to be doing much better. Hoseok looks _tired_ , his honey-complexion is unusually pale, and he doesn't have that first-class smile plastered across his face. In fact, he looks pretty irritated and his lips are turned down in a hideously adorable pout that makes Namjoon want to snicker. He resists the urge. Something tells him that he shouldn't mess with Hoseok when he has that particular look on his face.

"Do you see our clothes, anywhere?"

Namjoon peaks around the room. It's mostly just booze and expensive jewelry - probably stolen from unsuspecting guests who'd had one or two (or ten) drinks more than they should have. The captain also spies some weaponry, unarguably smuggled onto Risa; the sight, more than anything else, concerns him. If it's an isolated incident it might be okay, but if there's more... it means there may be a black-market for illegal weaponry on Risa, and that -- that would be a huge, huge problem. A problem that a Starfleet Captain would be solely equipped to handle.

"The weapons, sir," Hoseok nods towards an open box.

"Yeah, I've seen them. I'm hoping it's a one-off."

"If it's not..."

Namjoon shakes his head. "Let's worry about that later, yeah? We needa save ourselves first before we worry about saving Risa."

"Ugh, true."

"I can't see our clothes," Namjoon sighs.

"At least they had the decency to leave us in our undies."

The captain drapes his arms across his chest. "I feel all exposed."

"You look fantastic, cap, have you been working out?" Hoseok says with mock interest.

"Shut up, please." Namjoon glances around the room. "Is there a way out of here?"

"That looks like a door over there... surely it can't be that easy, though?"

The captain shrugs. "We won't know until we try."

He shakes out his wrists one more time and flinches, putting the pain away in the back corner of his mind. He wonders briefly whether he should grab two of the phasers and arm himself and Hoseok; ultimately, Namjoon decides against it - weapons are illegal on Risa anyway and, depending on where this underground cellar is located, he doesn't want to attract any attention or cause unnecessary panic.

Their only option is to get out of the cold basement as quickly as possible and hope that they're close enough to a command station to contact the Triptych. If they can get in touch with the crew it should be relatively easy to track down the Ferengi and apprehend them before they cause too much more trouble. Hopefully Namjoon and Hoseok are the only people they've actually snatched; hopefully their underground operation on Risa is relatively infantile, and a starship captain was just too much of an offer to pass up.

The captain, Hoseok in toe, moves quietly towards what looks like a small staircase in the far corner of the room. Standing at the bottom, they can easily see a door, and they both hope silently that it's unlocked so they can slip out of the cellar quickly and quietly, without having to employ louder methods - a phase to the metal, for example - to escape.

"Alright," Namjoon whispers. "Let's give it a go."

He climbs the stairs slowly, listening out for noises on the other side of the door. When he reaches the partition he presses his ear against the rusty metal. He can't _hear_ anything, but it does look like a substantial sort of hatch so he rationalizes that it may simply be muting whatever is taking place on the other side of the exit.

Hoseok has the same thought. "What if they're out there, cap?"

"Then we'll have to go with plan B and shoot our way out."

"Sure you don't want to grab the weapons, first?"

Namjoon grimaces. "I'd really rather not. If word gets out that a two armed, Starfleet officers, dressed down to just their underwear, were running through Risa, chased by Ferengi, guns blazing... I'd have to write one _hell_ of a report, and I'd really rather not." The captain puts his hands against the handle. "Best case scenario we get out of here quickly and quietly, we find a command station and we hail up to the Triptych. We'll deal with the Ferengi later, when we've got our fucking clothes back."

"Yeah, okay, sounds good."

"Alright, I'm gonna open the door now. Do you wanna wait at the bottom of the stairs, just in case?"

Hoseok nodded. "Yes, sir."

When the chief's feet are firmly planet at the bottom of the stairs, his hands already reaching reactively towards the weaponry, Namjoon pushes against the entrance, and the door clicks open.

Staring at them is nothing more, nothing less than a nice, calm Risan evening: white sand, ocean water lapping softly against the shore, exotic birds chirping and the sound of a distant luau going off somewhere out of sight. Namjoon almost laughs.

"Seriously?" Hoseok says. "It's just... unlocked?"

"Seriously," Namjoon breathes, and he enjoys the fresh air caressing his face. "Let's get out of here quickly. Who knows where they're lurking."

Hoseok tip-toes up the stairs in a way that is purely comical, and Namjoon finds himself laughing despite their precarious situation.

"Shhhh," Hoseok whispers. "Stop laughing and let's fucking go!"

The pair sneak out of the building, eyeing their surroundings carefully. The ground is still hot from a full day of sunshine, and Namjoon is glad that they haven't even lost twenty-four hours. His head is still pounding with the uncomfortable edge of a hangover which lets him know that the pair of them couldn't have been unconscious for more than a couple of hours. Hopefully, if they can get in contact with the Triptych fast enough, then Hoseok might still make it in time for the opening ceremony - they still have a conference to attend, after all. No mere kidnapping will get in the way of Namjoon's responsibilities as a Starfleet captain.

"Do you have any idea where we are?" He asks the chief.

"No clue. I don't recognize this at all. But they were pretty insistent about visiting the Subterranean Gardens, sir, so we can assume we're somewhere around there."

"That's good," Namjoon nods. "There's definitely a command station near-by, if that's the case."

"Fingers crossed, Joon."

The captain smiles, heading forward, still not entirely sure where he's going. "Y'know I've tried to get everyone to chill out on the captains-speak, but you're the only one who's gone with it so far."

Hoseok shrugs. "Not really huge on the whole superiority thing. I mean, I understand why the structure is needed, and all, but I've known a lot of ensigns who knew their way around a dilithium matrix better than their old, decrepit chiefs, so..."

"Is that why you requested a spot of the Triptych?" Namjoon hears a sound and crouches behind a wall.

When the coast is clear they pick up again, and Hoseok nods. "Yeah, I was tired of being told what to do by ancient assholes who say shit like _'in myyyy dayyy'_." Namjoon laughs and Hoseok shoots him a smile. "I knew the Triptych was supposed to be this... _pioneer_ vessel. I figured I'd give it my best shot and apply for the position."

Namjoon grins. "I'm glad you did," he says honestly. "I've never met a more gifted engineer in my life."

Hoseok smiles brightly.

And then his smile falls.

"Oh fuck."

Namjoon turns around and groans.

Across the way, already clearly in their line of sight, are two angry, ugly Ferengi, waving their phasers above their heads, charging in Namjoon and Hoseok's direction.

"There they are!" The first yells. "They've escaped! DaiMon Maug! I've found them, DaiMon!"

The second turns to someone out of sight, and a third Ferengi appears. His hideous features light up in a disgusting, sinister smile. "Well don't just stand there!" He yells at the first and second. "Take them down!"

"Take them down?" Hoseok whispers.

"Yeah," Namjoon grabs his bare arm. "That means kill us -- fucking, run, Hoseok!"

They set off in the other direction, Namjoon just slightly behind Hoseok, as phaser beams start blasting over their heads.

Namjoon can feel the heat of the blaster beam as it sizzles in the air around him. He's almost sure that he can  _smell_ burnt hair as one single beam soars across his head, the sound of popping, super heated air is loud in his ears, and he's never been more sure he's going to die in his life. 

"These undies really were not made for sprinting!" Hoseok yells.

Namjoon looks down at his chiefs bare ass, which is completely, completely on display. "Jesus Christ!" He pants. "Are you wearing a fucking _jock-strap!?"_

 _"I WAS PLANNING TO GET LAID NOT KIDNAPPED,"_  Hoseok yells in return, zipping further and further away from Namjoon, causing the captain to pick up his pace. 

Soon enough they're running through what looks like some-kind of maze. There's flowers and lush plants on either side of them, massive vines and tropical blooms which tower far over the top of Namjoon's head. There's no time for deliberation. They just turn left and right as they see fit and hope to _God_ that they're traveling in the right direction. Large tropical leaves are whipping past Namjoon's face; at one stage he almost chokes to death on a bug - he keeps running despite the tears that collect in the corner of his eyes.

They keep running, legs straining, hearts pumping in their ears. Namjoon feels like he might keel over and die if they don't stop soon. But they can't; they can't stop. If they do the Ferengi will catch up to them and, with their phasers set on full, blast them into oblivion before the captain can even _try_ to talk them out of a fatal encounter.

But soon, it doesn't matter. All their hard work and racing is meaningless as they round a corner and turn upon a dead end.

Namjoon's heart sinks below his stomach.

"Shit," Hoseok pants, his whole face red from exhaustion. "Shit do you think we can climb it?"

The captain doubles over onto his knees. "No," he shakes his head. "Not with our wrists in this condition."

"Fuck," the chief runs his hands through his hair. "Fuck, sir, what are we going to do."

This is the moment. This is the moment when Namjoon puts his big-boy captain's pants on, and saves the day.

He's ready for it. He wants to. He's ready to open his mouth and pull a fantabulous, fool-proof, plan out of thin air.

He opens his mouth but nothing comes out.

Fuck.

"Shit, sir, we're gonna fucking die."

Namjoon shakes his head. "No, no you're not. Hide Hoseok. There's plants and vines all over the place. Find somewhere to hide and I'll head out there. They want the captain of a starship? Then they can have him. You're getting out of here alive."

"Bullshit Namjoon. I don't give a fuck if you're the captain. I'm not letting you go out there."

His hands wrap around Namjoon's arms like a vice.

Namjoon tries to shrug him off. "Let go of me, Commander. That's an order!"

"Fuck your orders, sir! If we're going down then we're going down together!"

"This isn't a shitty holodeck fiction, Hoseok! This is your life! I might be able to lead them away if you fucking let me go and _hide_!"

"No, honestly, fuck you! I'd rather die, to be honest, so you better put your thinking cap on and figure out another plan because I'm _not_ leaving you here. You can court-martial me in the next life, for all I care, Namjoon!"

But it's too late. Two Ferengi round the corner, the phasers poised, hideous grins spreading across their faces.

"Yes!" One of them squeals. "We're sure to earn favor with the Daimon!"

The other has more level eyes. "You might've lived if you hadn't tried to escape. Could've sold you into slavery for a pretty penny, but you would've lived."

"Honestly, fuck you!" Hoseok spits.

Namjoon pushed the chief behind his shoulder so he's protected. "If you kill us it will be considered an Act of War against the Federation. Think this through." Namjoon is impressed by how forceful and level his voice is. Inside, he's fucking terrified.

The first Ferengi laughs, tilting his head back towards the sky. " _We_ are not _aligned_ with the Empire!"

"Captain they're pirates!" Hoseok says into his ear. "They're fucking scallywags. They don't give a shit about our rules!"

It's hard to remain composed when you're standing, phasers pointed at your face, in your underwear. "Even better," Namjoon muses. "You kill a Starfleet captain, you're fucking finished. The federation will stop at nothing to hunt you down and bring you to justice!"

"Yeah!" Hoseok yells behind his shoulder.

The second Ferengi laughed. "You think we give a shit what you have to say? Look at you, you're pathetic. Just stand-fucking-still so I can get this over with. I have a nice Risan lady waiting for me at the bar."

Hoseok scoffs. "Unlikely!" he yells.

Namjoon turns his face, obscuring his mouth slightly. "I'm going to distract them, Hope. You need to run, okay? You need to run and get yourself out of here. I need you to tell Jin that I'm sorry, and that I love him, okay? Please. Run so you can do that for me, okay? Just run so you can do that for me."

"Captain..." Hoseok's hands tighten around Namjoon's shoulders.

"Ugh fucking _enough_ ," the Ferengi breathes.

"Hoseok, get ready."

"You shouldn't have run," the alien laughs, and Namjoon's muscles tighten in preparation.

"You reaaaaally shouldn't have run." He aims the his phaser right at Namjoon's head.

He sends a silent prayer to Jin.

Says all the things he should've said.

Takes back all the things he shouldn't've.

He steps forward.

"Yeah I really wouldn't." A familiar voice sounds and Namjoon's eyes fly open.

They're saved.

"Lower your weapons or I'll fucking blow your brains out you piece of shit."

A terrifyingly fierce blonde appears behind the Ferengi. One phaser in each hand, and a smirk on his lips.

"A Starfleet officer would never," the first Ferengi says.

Jimin just laughs. "I would. Give it a shot. I'm fucking unhinged. Tell them how unhinged I am, Commander."

Yoongi appears at his side. He, also, has a phaser on his hip, though he hasn't bothered to draw it. "I can attest to his level of _unhinged_ ," he says.

"Right," Jimin breathes. "So lower your weapons or prepare to fucking die at my hands. It's been months, I'm itching to shoot something."

There's a long moment where Namjoon thinks the Ferengi might shoot him anyway. Eventually, though, both lower their weapons and discard them on the ground.

Jimin smiles, he quirks his head and two junior security officers appear. They're clad in red, their own phasers hanging at their hips as they restrain the Ferengi easily, pulling them into cuffs and, eventually, dragging them out of view, their heads drooped low.

Namjoon is at a loss for words. The fact that he _isn't_ going to die is catching up with him slowly.

"FUCK!" Hoseok yells, literally  jumping into the air and whooping loudly. "Fuck that was _awesome_." He runs past Namjoon and stops in front of Jimin, pulling the small security officer into a tight hug. "Holy shit that was fucking _hella sickkkk_!!!! You're the coolest person I know, Jimin, fuck. I think I'm in love with you." He smooches his friend right on the mouth. "Marry me, Jimin?"

The other officer pushes the chief away but does a pretty shitty job at hiding his smile.

"That was fucking disgusting, please never do that again." He lets Hoseok embrace him, going so far as to actively hug him back.

Namjoon is still frozen.

"Doctor, you may approach. I believe the Captain and the chief require medical attention."

A minute later, Seokjin rounds the corner, his eyes searching.

When they meet Namjoon's, the captain feels such a strong sense of relief that he almost can't remember how to breath.

"Oh my Gods," Seokjin cries, and he's around the captain in a second, hands fluttering all across his face. " _Oh my God, I thought you were dead. I came down to the surface and I couldn't see you - I couldn't find you - and I thought you were dead!"_

Namjoon just looks at him. Just drinks him in. His beautiful sharp eyes, his full lips, his cheeks, the skin of his face and neck, how he smells. 

"Are you hurt?" The doctor asks, his medical tricorder flying out of the holster at his left hip. He begins running it over Namjoon's entire body, his eyes taking in the data frantically. "Your blood pressure is through the roof and your adrenaline is spiking but otherwise --" He pauses. "Your wrists Namjoon, Gods, a millimeter deeper and you would've been in serious trouble."

Seokjin is here. Seokjin is here so it's fine.

His Imzadi is here and it's okay. He still has time to tell him.

He still has time.

"Namjoon?"  The doctor brushes a hand against his cheek. "Namjoon, baby, are you okay?"

 _Baby._ It wasn't 'imzadi', but it was something.

Namjoon's lips part as he tries to form words. "I -- I --"

"It's okay," Seokjin cooes, returning his medical tricorder to his hip so he can press two hands against Namjoon's neck. "It's okay, Joonie, you don't have to say anything. I'm here. I got you --"

"I t-thought we w-were dead."

"I know, sweetie, it's scary, I know --"

"N-no," Namjoon stammers. "I - I'm not afraid of dying. I - I w-wanted to s-save Hoseok b-but I'm n-not afraid of dying."

"What is it then, honey?" Seokjin's hand moved reassuringly over his cheek.

"I h-have to t-tell you," Namjoon's whole voice quivers. "I-it's okay i-if I die, b-but I h-have to tell you f-first."

Seokjin's features are so... gentle. They're so gentle that Namjoon wants to cry.

The doctor runs a thumb across the captain's lips. "It's okay, Joonie. I know. You don't have to say anything because I know, okay?"

"You -- y-you know?"

The telepath's forehead comes to rest against Namjoon's. "Yes. You called out to me before. I heard you, okay? I heard you, so I know, alright?"

"Y-you -- you heard?"

"Yes," Seokjin breathes. "Yes, I heard, okay? We'll talk about it later, alright? Please let me take you back to the ship and treat your wrists. You're still bleeding. But we'll talk about it later, okay?"

"Do you p-promise?"

"Yes, I promise. Just let me take you back to the ship now, alright?"

"Okay," Namjoon nods. His wrists _are_ throbbing, after all.

"Okay, then. It's alright, just hold onto my arm, okay?"

"J-Jin do I-I look stupid?"

"No, baby, of course not. You just look surprised. Besides, no one's here anymore. It's just you and me."

Namjoon finally looks past Seokjin and realizes that they are, in fact, alone."O-okay. L-let's go home then."

"Yeah?" Jin asks, and Namjoon barely manages a nod. "Okay, then."

The doctor presses on the communicator against his chest. "Doctor Kim to the Triptych. Two to beam-up."

* * *

 

Taehyung downs another glass of champagne.

The pain in his temple is fucked. It's so fucked that it's practically all he can think about.

Just the fucking pain in his temple and...

And Jungkook.

He motions for a waiter and takes another glass. He's not a big drinker, but he's also not usually so emotionally compromised and, as far as the rest of the known universe can attest, alcohol is a good way to manage one's emotional problems.

So yeah, he's drinking. More than he usually would, and he's feeling it too, but that's not going to stop him. The drunker he gets the more he's able to ignore that pain in his temple - the more he's able to ignore what that pain in his temple means.

A hand nudges his shoulder, and he turns around.

It's Lieutenant Wallace. She's the same age as Taehyung - he's known her since their academy days. She's a tiny little girl with small features and equally small breasts and she's had a crush on the pilot since day one. She doesn't even try to hide it. He's an empath, after all, and she knows this very well so, instead, she goes down a different path: she makes it so painfully obvious that she's into Taehyung that even the fact that he's never reciprocated her feelings isn't awkward or uncomfortable anymore.

It's practically an inside joke that they both share.

"Taehyungie." She smiles, and her smile is too petite and her eyes don't crinkle right at the corner, but either way it's cute. She's cute.

"Amanda," Taehyung grins.

And he grins at her _just right_.

She blushes, of course.

"What are you up to?" She asks innocently. "You here for the show?"

He nods. "Yep." As much as he doesn't want to watch, he's not going to miss seeing Jimin. "My best friend's dancing."

"Oh Jimin? Is he in Three-J, as well?"

Taehyung laughs. "You know Three-J?"

Amanda giggles. "Everyone does. They're all so fucking hot, half of my girl-friends have been trying to sneak into their practices for weeks!"

The empath nods but keeps his expression level. He shouldn't ask, but he does. "Who's your favorite?"

He feels a wave of interest and arousal pass through Amanda's psyche. "That new one - ensign Jeon?" She says. "He's so pretty."

 _That_ irritates Taehyung in a way that he doesn't even understand. Instead he just gazes into Amanda's boring brown eyes and says, "prettier than me?"

She blushes again; now she's even more aroused than before. "No one's prettier than you, Tae."

The pilot just blows a stream of air our of his nose. He's not amused. Not at all, if he's being honest. In fact, he's a little irritated by Amanda's presence. He just wants to be left alone with his champagne and the appetizers. He wants to watch Jimin dance - his eyes locked on his best friend and no one else - then he wants to promptly beam back to the ship, take a long-cold shower, bury his head in a pillow and sleep for two weeks.

He's in a shit mood. But he can't send Amanda away, either. He's never had it in his heart to be short or sharp, or mean. Especially not when she's looking at him like that. He doesn't want to break the poor girl's hear.

The lights dim, and Taehyung feels his whole body lock up.

"Oh it's starting!"

Amanda tugs at his arm and soon enough he's being led forward, right into the heart of the crowd.

Suddenly he's practically right in front of the stage. Close enough that everything's crisp and clear and he doesn't have to squint to see the details, which is terrifying because he doesn't _want_ to see the details. He doesn't _want_ to know what Jungkook looks like when he's focused, when the music moves him and stirs the passion inside of him. He doesn't want to be able to see Jungkook's body shift, the muscles in his arms and legs flexing to the beat. He doesn't want to see that shit.

And he doesn't want Jungkook to see _him_.

Doesn't want the kid to get the wrong idea.

But then the show starts and Taehyung realizes, with stark horror, that he _does_ want those things. With all his heart and soul he wants to see Jungkook underneath the lights: he wants to see the way his lip is perched between his teeth, his brow furrowed as his body rolls against the music. Everything about him seems to draw Taehyung in; it frightens him, but it also brings him alive, the way that Jimin and Hoseok are invisible.

To him, it's just Jungkook. It's just Jungkook moving like that, his motions strong and sure as the choreography rolls forward without so much as a hitch. He's so fast. He's unbelievably fast as his arms and his feet and his _hands_ shoot out, catching the essence of each sound, each feeling, coiling them up inside his muscles until they're charged like ions. He stores them inside him for as long as he possible can, and then they flood into Taehyung like a wave.

He's positively _sick_ with feeling. He's high on it. The champagne tastes like soda-water when he brings a shaky glass to his lips and downs it, hoping that it might sate his dry throat - that unbelievable hunger that he feels. That incredible _pull_ that's so intense it physically _hurts_ him.

Jungkook's not even watching him. Doesn't even know he's there. He's consumed by the music and the dance and as the song turns a little bit sad Taehyung almost clutches at his heart as a wave of debilitating melancholy passes from Jungkook's mind to his. It's awful. He's simultaneously consumed with the need to flee, but also the overpowering urge to push the three people in front of him out of the way so he can vault onto the stage and take Jungkook in his arms.

He just wants to hold him. Just wants him to _know_ that Taehyung's only reason for _being_ is to keep him safe. So there's no reason for Jungkook to feel that _sad_ ever again. There's no reason for him to be anything but happy; no reason for him not to smile and feel exactly the same way he felt in the ocean on Risa as Taehyung reached out and pressed his hand to his heart. He'd just wanted to know what he was thinking. He could _feel_ something. That feeling of awe and interest and longing was just too much. He just _reached_ out.

And he wanted to do so again, right now, as the song draws to a close. The way that Jungkook's chest is rising and falling and the sweat has soaked through his bangs so they're plastered to his forehead. The shirt he's wearing is so thin that Taehyung can _see_ his golden flesh beneath the delicate fabric, and it _irritates_ him that anyone else might be looking at Jungkook. That anyone else might be longing for him in the same way because --

Because Jungkook is _his_. Jungkook belongs to him and no one else can touch him and --

"Taehyung?" A voice calls out to him but he can't really hear. "Taehyung are you alright... it's -- it's your eyes Tae they've just gone all black?"

_No._

No, he can't do this again. He has to get a hold of himself. He can't do this again. Not to Jungkook. Especially  not to Jungkook. Anyone but Jungkook.

"Taehyungie, seriously, you're scaring me. Are you alright? Can I get you anything?"

He turns to the voice and Amanda is standing next to him, and her big eyes are concerned but not afraid, and that's all he needs right now, just someone - anyone - who's not afraid of him.

"Taehyung are you --"

So he kisses her.

He closes his eyes and he kisses her.

Even though he feels nothing; even though her soft little lips moving against his just taste like skin and his heart recoils and his head asks him what the fuck he's doing.

He kisses her.

And he hopes Jungkook doesn't see.

And he hopes Jungkook _does_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love this thing where I tell you the same stories from a number of different perspectives so we can see which character's are withholding which truths from themselves, and us. It's a specific type of dramatic irony that is really working for me as your author. I'm loving it, I hope you are too.


	7. A World Inverted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some good shit and then HEAVY ANGST. 
> 
> Some really toxic and destructive thoughts in here guys, in the last section. As always, if you feel uncomfortable, skip past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got me writing cap on and I am in fine form today ladies and gentlemen! 
> 
> How are you, by the way? What are you up to? Can we sound off in the comments and let me know what the fuck is going on in your guys' lives? 
> 
> I hope you're doing well. If you're not: please feel free to lose yourself in this story. Surely you aren't doing as bad as Taekook, anyway, and if you are, at least you're not alone. 
> 
> I miss you guys between the days that I don't post. It's probably why I update so often: your comments make me really happy. 
> 
> Annnnnyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter. Sound off in the comments as usual. I love hearing from you. 
> 
> Love,
> 
> Mussells
> 
> Oh, also, PS there's a pretty substantial time jump. I was trying to see if I could extend Risa for you because everyone seemed to like the setting so much but unfortunately it just didn't work out that way. So we're back on the ship, vaulting at warp speed through space, just over two Earth-months later. 
> 
> PSS sorry for what I've done at the end of the first section, that was rude and I'll only do it once I promise LMFAO

Those cool hands against the searing flesh of his face felt... nicer than they should. God, that was becoming a recurring theme in his life: his heart racing - faster than it should; his palms sweating - more than they should; his breath coming - quicker than he thought possible. Jimin knew it was happening and yet he was powerless to stop it. He could sense the physical attraction becoming something more... emotional, and there was nothing he could do. 

The fact of the matter was, he liked the commander.

He liked the commander more than he should.

"You did much better this time," Yoongi whispered into the quiet space, the tips of his fingers carding through Jimin's bangs so gently that the lieutenant had to suppress the urge to _moan._

He should've opened his eyes, really. He should've answered the commander straight away and told him that, yeah, it _felt_ better, too.

He didn't, though. Opening his eyes meant the spell would be broken, and Yoongi would pull away quickly and soon he'd be drinking a cup of Vulcan tea which he'd down in two gulps; it meant that he'd be shrugging his jacket back on in no time, and Yoongi would offer him a shower which he would refuse, and then they'd be parting and Jimin would be whispering his superior officer's first name for the final time, under his breath, before the doors slid shut. Who knew when they would meet up again. Yoongi's work-load as First Officer was substantial, and as Chief of Security Jimin's wasn't much better, after all.

It'd been over two months since that very first time, and Jimin and Yoongi had only manage to meet four times for... whatever it was they were doing. Jimin didn't want to call them ' _sessions'_ \- that made it sound as if the commander was some kind of therapist: it made what they were doing feel empty and clinical.

The reality was quite the opposite. The time he spent in Yoongi's quarters was scary in it's intensity; it was literally and figuratively _frightening,_ but it was also careful and passionate and Jimin was having a hard time finding a place where he felt _safer_ , anymore. After a stressful day his first thought was no-longer ' _I want to go to go to the holodeck',_ or _'I want to go to Hope's studio'_ , but instead, _'I wonder when I can see Yoongi again,'_ \- not as his subordinate, not as his security chief, but as they are _right now_ , two people connecting in a way that Jimin thought impossible.

"Are you okay?" Yoongi spoke again and Jimin knew that he couldn't stall any longer. He was going to have to open his eyes and drink his tea, put on his jacket, refuse a shower, and _go._

The idea hurt him - again, more than it should.

Jimin sighed. "Yeah, I'm alright. Just... adjusting, Yoongi."

He said the commander's name more often than needed, as well, but he couldn't stop himself; it just felt so nice so say his name: like a secret, shared between two people.

He could hear Yoongi breathing and he felt the Vulcan's hand pull out of his hair so he could catch a bead of sweat as it ran down Jimin's neck. Recently, with the modesty of his first visit long forgotten, Jimin had started discarding his shirt along with his jacket whenever he and Yoongi met in his quarters to... meditate. Now, there was nothing between his own skin and the flesh of the commanders hand as it pressed into his bare shoulder to steady him.

If Taehyung had been there, he would've laughed at Jimin; he would've wiggled his eyebrows at the security chief and said _'can't fool me, I know what you're doing'_. But Jimin hadn't told Taehyung about his meetings with the commander. Hadn't said a word beyond that very first time where he'd insisted it was just 'ship's business' and everyone had promptly forgotten about it.

So he hadn't told his best friend, and that was a bad, bad sign. It meant he felt like he was doing something wrong, and if he felt like he was doing something wrong then he _knew_ he was doing something wrong _,_ and if he knew, then it meant he had to _stop_.

But he didn't. Of course he didn't. Sometimes he even rearranged his schedule so that he could meet the commander, which meant that he was _actively_ seeking him out.

He was _actively_ _doing wrong_.

That knowledge was so problematic.

For once in his life Jimin wished that he wasn't as smart as he was. If he could remain oblivious then this _thing_ that he felt... well, he could allow it to continue for longer.

In truth, if he was completely honest with himself, Jimin  just wanted as much time with Yoongi as the commander would possibly allow.

Which is why he could never tell him. There was no doubt in his mind that if the Vulcan even caught a _whiff_ of Jimin's attachment, that would be the end of their relationship - if he could even call it a _relationship_ \- and the lieutenant just was _not_ willing to risk it.

He liked Yoongi too much. His sanity was too entirely reliant on the hour that the pair spent together every couple of weeks, to allow _anything_ , anything at all, to come in the way of it.

So, Jimin did what he always did. He stretched out the moments as long as he possibly could, like an elastic band pulled taught to breaking point, and then he surrendered them. He was just greedy enough to long for _more_ , but not so greedy that he might actually pursue it.

When he opened his eyes he was still, as always, overwhelmed by the intensity of the commander's gaze, though it didn't shock him anymore. Those dark quizzical eyes that he had memorized by the end of their second hour together, the pout of his lips, the way they shone, slick with spit in the candlelight, when Yoongi rolled them across his tongue as he pieced his next thought together in the quiet, orderly, privacy of his own mind.

It was easy enough, in his day-to-day, to convince himself that his feelings for Yoongi were simply a shadow, a left-over need for connectedness that was a symptom caused by the intimate nature of a mind-meld. But when the Vulcan gazed across at Jimin with that incredible look in his eyes, as he was right now, the lieutenant just surrendered to the very real truth that he was completely, utterly falling for him in a very honest, very seventeen-year-old-girl-with-a-crush, sort of way.

It had been a long time. Sure, once he'd come of age Jimin had garnered some-what of a reputation for promiscuity at the Academy. He'd made his way through most of the gay, bi-sexual and bi-curious members of his class. At a party he'd even hit on a _very_ publicly heterosexual Tony Robins: the older boy had turned to Jimin with an amused sort of expression and said ' _I don't like boys'_ and Jimin had eyed him with an equally-amused glint and said _'but you'll like me'._

And yeah, he'd been fucking right. Tony Robins had liked him. Tony Robins had liked him so much that he'd begged Jimin to top, and though it wasn't his usual dig, Jimin agreed, the reality of Tony's sexuality too fucking hilarious to refuse.

Even when Tony got a girlfriend, Jimin had continued to fuck him privately for almost eight months. It wasn't his proudest moment but Tony was hot and it was exciting, sneaking around, and it was a good distraction from the very uncomfortable truth that, despite the minute emotional attachment that he reserved for his best friend and for Hoseok, Jimin felt _nothing_ towards _anybody_. And he'd felt that way for years.

Then: Wolf 359. It had only made things worse. Jimin had saved thirteen people practically on instinct-alone, yet everyone was celebrating him like he was some kind of war-hero. He'd felt bored and empty, withdrawn no-matter where he was. Again, he was able love Taehyung, his best-friend, his brother, through all of it - but there was no-one else; he even fell out of contact with Hoseok for a number of months: the engineer had kept sending him communiques, though - he'd kept trying even though Jimin was proving, more and more, that he was a shitty person.

And then, when he was practically at the edge of it, four postings down the fucking shitter, ready to leave Starfleet for good and run away to some far-off planet in some far-off quadrant, Captain Kim Namjoon had offered him a position as Security Chief aboard his new command: the USS Triptych. It had been a three-hour conversation where Namjoon had poked and prodded and sold the _shit_ out of the idea to Jimin. The young-Captain had promised him space and security and all the things he couldn't admit to himself that he craved. But, more than anything, suggesting a command position among the senior staff, Captain Kim had offered Jimin _control_. Something that he wanted so desperately, yet the concept had felt so foreign to him, at that stage.

But the more time Jimin spent behind Yoongi's cool hands, the more moments he spent gazing into the commanders dark eyes, despite himself, practically _in spite_ of himself, the more in control Jimin felt. The more certain he was that he'd made the right decision; the more of his heart and mind came alight again after what felt like so fucking long.

And suddenly Jimin was messing around with Hoseok like they always had; suddenly he was dancing in the mirror and actually _feeling_ something, rather than just replicating moves like a machine on auto-pilot; he was making new friends, like young, stuttering Ensign Jeon, and actually _caring_ what they had to say. One day, even, not too long ago, he'd looked into Jungkook's eyes and seen such sadness there and his heart had _lurched_ ; not just the fake expectation of a feeling that Jimin had grown so accustomed to, but actual real, visceral _empathy_. Jungkook hadn't wanted to talk about it and Jimin hadn't wanted to push - but he'd cared enough to _ask_ , not just out of habit but real, true and honest _concern._

Jimin had grown so used to being nice just because that's how he figured he _should_ be. He'd forgotten that, in actuality, he _did,_ once, have a smile so big it would turn his eyes to crescents and obscure his vision so much that he could barely _see;_ he'd had a laugh that made everyone close enough to hear turn and smile; he'd had a heart that was open and loving and soul that made those around him feel _good_ about themselves, just through proximity.

When had he lost that? Was it on Wolf 359 - had the Borg left him alive but taken something else - or was it before?

He couldn't say. He really couldn't say.

"What are you thinking?" Yoongi asked him, and it was a tentative sort of request, as if the Vulcan wasn't sure Jimin would want to answer.

But realistically, the lieutenant would tell him literally _anything_ he ever wanted to know.

"I was just thinking about myself," Jimin admitted. "I think I've been asleep for a while without really knowing it. I'm not sure if I'm quite awake yet, but I guess I realized just now that I _do_ want to wake up. I'm tired of hitting snooze on my life."

"Hitting snooze?" Yoongi's brow quirked adorably and that old, happy smile Jimin had been remembering threatened to break out across his face.

The lieutenant just grinned, instead. "Yeah it's this human thing where, like, when your alarm sounds to wake you up, you hit 'snooze' and it lets you sleep for longer."

Yoongi's whole head cocked. "Illogical," the commander said, "considering an alarm's sole purpose is to wake one up from sleep."

"Exactly right," Jimin laughed. "That's why I'm not gonna do it to myself anymore."

Jimin must be hallucinating because he was sure he saw the commander _smile_.

"That is good news," Yoongi said. "That is really good news."

"Yeah," Jimin was a little taken aback so the word came out as a bit of a whisper.

"You are doing very well," Yoongi was already pushing up on his hands a moving towards the replicator. Jimin tried not to pout. "I have always struggled with my telepathy but melding with you is so easy... I don't understand it myself but it seems to --" The commander turned. "Why are you laughing?"

Jimin put his hands over his lips to hide his massive smile. "I-it's just you said 'don't', Yoongi, just now."

"I don't understand..."

Jimin guffawed. "Oh my God, you did it again!"

Yoongi just watched the lieutenant with a confused expression. "What're you talking about?"

Jimin's eyes fell open and he pushed himself off the ground, stepping towards the commander so he could rest his palm against the Vulcan's forehead. "Are you okay?"

The commander put his hand against Jimin's bare waist so easily that it almost felt like a habit. "Jimin, I'm fine. Honestly, what's wrong?"

The lieutenant did his best to ignore the searing feeling. "You're just - you're using contractions, Yoongi. You don't usually speak that way..."

The Vulcan paused, his brow pulling upward. "I am?"

Jimin ran his hand down his cheek.

He should stop, this was too _intimate_ , he was going to give himself away if he continued to behave like this.

"Yeah," he breathed, running his thumb across Yoongi's cheekbone. "You are."

Did he imagine the way the commander leaned into his touch?

"I - it must be transference from the meld... I didn't even realize I was doing it..."

"You're still doing it."

God, the way that Yoongi's Adam's apple bobbed in his throat made Jimin want to mark the soft, creamy flesh around it.

Why was he leaning forward.

Fuck, was the commander leaning forward, too?

"Y-yoongi?" He whispered.

"'s just transference," the commander breathed, and his mouth was so close that Jimin could _feel_ his breath.

He's gotta pull back right now.

_Right. Fucking. Now, Jimin!_

His other hand fucks him over, lifting from his side and coming to rest on Yoongi's cheek.

Shit, there's another cool hand on the other side of his waist, and the commander's tongue darts out of his mouth to wet his plush little lips and steal away whatever semblance of control Jimin might've had left.

"I just really wanna do this," the commander whispered, his dark eyes lidded. "Fuck the transference, honestly..."

His lips were right there.

_They're right fucking there._

And there's a pause, where Yoongi gives Jimin a chance to pull away.

But of course, Jimin doesn't pull away. Why would he fucking pull away?

Their lips a millimeter apart and sweet fucking relief so close and --

" _Captain Kim to Commander Min - sorry to disturb you when you're off-duty, Number One, but we need you in Stellar Cartography, right away_."

There's a uncomfortably long moment of pause, and the commander is close enough to his face that Jimin can see realization dawn in his eyes.

_Oh fuck._

* * *

 

Jungkook's learned over the past two-or-so months that where his threshold for physical pain is unusually high, his emotional one is quite the opposite.

So now he just spends more and more time in his quarters studying, or throwing a tennis ball at the wall, or just, fucking, staring at it - if he doesn't feel like he can mentally manage anything else.

Yeah he spends more time staring at that fucking wall than doing literally anything else, recently.

He's stopped dancing. Can't set foot in the holographic studio anymore because sometimes _he_ shows up to watch Jimin practice. _He's_ always got that girl on his arm too, and she's always looking at _him_ with heart eyes, and clawing at _his_ arm like she owns it, or something. Jungkook's not really a possessive sort of person but he's never felt such fire lick through his whole body than when he saw her the first time.

Well - not the first time.

The first time was worse, actually, if that was possible.

The first time he hadn't had the time to mentally prepare, hadn't been ready to substitute heart-break for fury, so he'd just felt the thumping muscle explode inside his chest instead; the shards of it had lodged into all of his major organs and the pain had been so intense that he almost blacked out - but whatever, right? At least he knew.

At least the sight of  _him_ lip locking with some random girl right in front of his performance stage was a pretty solid indicator that the empath didn't give a flying shit about him or his feelings or the moment they'd shared.

Yeah, he'd had his answer.

_He doesn't love me._

_He doesn't even like me, probably,_ by the way he hadn't even bothered to applaud. He'd just stuck his tongue right down another girls throat  with the same intensity that Jungkook had felt a knife lodge into his abdomen. 

And Jungkook doesn't remember much, after that. He got himself back to the ship, obviously; he changed out of his costume and had a shower and put on his sleep-wear - dried his hair, even - completely on autopilot.

What he does remember, however, is the way he sobbed into his pillow. He sobbed so hard that he thought he was going to throw up; he sobbed so hard that his roommate, who wasn't really nice but wasn't _not-nice,_ either, sat on the edge of his bed and laid a tentative hand on his shoulder, keeping it there until Jungkook was able to calm down enough to fucking _breathe_ again.

"I don't know what it is," Yugyeom had said. "But I know it's gonna pass, bro. You just gotta let it pass."

Jungkook wants to believe him, but he can't - not really.  _He_ is _everywhere_. He's on the bridge and in the studio; he's in the dining hall and sick-bay and he's inside Jungkook's fucking _head_. He dreams about him every night: sometimes he's on the floor bleeding and  _he_ is watching him with disinterested, inky-black eyes, as he screams out for the help that never comes. Those nights are manageable, actually. He doesn't mind those nights.

Sometimes, though, in his dreams,  _he_ and Jungkook are nose-to-nose, and the pilot's eyes are full of love and trust as he pecks against Jungkook's lips; his arms are wrapped around the crewman who nuzzles into his warm neck and there's no fear or anxiety left in the whole _universe_.  _His_ arms are the ultimate protection from everything bad and everything wrong and they're holding onto Jungkook with tenderness and sometimes passion; sometimes, on those nights, his dreams are _fire_ and Jungkook loves to boil - it feels more _right_ than anything else when he licks into  _his_ mouth and the empath moans against his lips and the ecstasy is so great that it makes Jungkook's eyes roll into his skull.

Yeah, those are the worst nights. Jungkook hates those nights. When he wakes up from those dreams it takes a whole moment for him to realize that  _he_ isn't beside him: that it's just an illusion his mind constructed to torture him, or maybe numb that intense _aching_ that he feels, even for a moment, so he can get some real sleep. On those nights he wakes up and bites so hard into his lip that he draws blood and presses into his chest with his palm like he's trying to stunt a bleeding wound.

On those nights he wishes he could just bleed out, actually. He wishes he could just fucking _pour_ into the mattress until there's nothing left.

But there's no blood to bleed. His body's fine, in actuality.

It's just his soul that's broken, and even though that _hurts_ more, it's not enough to actually kill him. Not just yet, at least.

So Jungkook's learning to cope in the only way he knows how.

He gets angry.

Because he can't move when his soul is broken, but fury is like a suture that holds him together just long enough that he can pull himself out of bed, shower, and go to work. Fury means that he can say 'yes' or 'no, sir' when he needs to - it means he can read data and crunch numbers and _function_.

Functioning is enough, right now, but Jungkook wonders whether it's going to be enough for the rest of his life.

Probably not, but he'll worry about that at a later date.

Right now he hates  _him_ and he hates that bitch who's always got her arms around him. He hates the captain and he hates the ship; he hates Jimin, Hoseok's smile fucking _infuriates_ him, and he can only, barely, stand the commander because that tiny Vulcan doesn't show much of anything, which is oddly calming to the ensign in his current state. Yeah, he's been working at science a lot lately, because he hates everyone else. Fucking hates them.

Worst of all is --

" _Doctor to Ensign Jeon, please respond_."

Worst of all is the Doctor. Jungkook fucking _hates_ the doctor.

" _Doctor Kim to Ensign Jeon, please respond_."

The crewman presses against his communicator and resists the urge to spit a ' _what?'_ into the reciever.

"Ensign Jeon, here, sir."

" _Ah, good, thought you weren't gonna answer for a second there_."

Yeah, Jungkook'd really, really considered it.

"What can I do for you, Doctor?" He asks through his teeth, instead.

" _I understand that you're off duty now, and I was hoping you would meet with me in sick-bay_."

The ensign feels his jaw clench. "Is it urgent, doctor? Because I'm kind of in the middle of something, right now, sir."

He's not. Actually, he's just taking part in his favorite pastime: staring at the wall in his quarters.

" _It's not urgent-urgent, but I'd like you to come see me none-the-less, ensign_."

Jungkook rolls his eyes. "Are you gonna order me, sir?"

There's a pause on the line. " _Do I have to_?"

 _Fucking, yes_ , Jungkook thinks. He doesn't want to see the doctor. For obvious reasons, he really doesn't want to see him. The first being that he's _his_ fucking brother - that alone is enough to turn Jungkook _way_ off. Second, Doctor Kim is telepathic, which means that whatever's going on inside Jungkook's head - whatever he's thinking and feeling - and he, himself, doesn't even fucking know, the doctor will hear it loud and clear.

The doctor will know about _him_.

But Jungkook's got no other option.

"I'm on my way, sir."

* * *

Seokjin sometimes curses the fact that he's such a fucking over-achiever that he got his certification in psychology and counseling as well as his medical degree. It had seemed logical at the time: he was a telepath - who would be more suited to help people decode the inner workings of their own minds than him, after all?

But on his first psychology rotation at the hospital at Starfleet Medical, he'd discovered that it wasn't that easy. Most of the time being able to read peoples thoughts just made shit harder; sometimes Jin would find himself all caught up in thinking and feelings that weren't his own - he'd find himself emotionally compromised in the worst way, so much so that he almost considered leaving the certification behind altogether.

But fuck it, Jin wasn't a quitter.

Right now he wished that he had been.

Ensign Jeon was sat in front of him and, physically, he looked pretty horrible; the poor kid was so white that he almost seemed _gray_ , and the circles under his eyes looked purple and painful, as if he hadn't slept in a month. Emotionally, the crewman was worse: though the _thoughts_ inside his mind were relatively blank, mostly just attesting to the fact that he did _not want to **be here** , _the feelings that accompanied them were awful.

He was angry - furious, even - and beneath that, at a lower, more subconscious level, he was sad. So, so _sad_.

"Do you know why you're here?" The doctor leaned across his desk, lacing his fingers casually in front of him.

The crewman's eye twitched. "No," he said.

Although, actually, there was awareness in there somewhere, Jin could sense it.

"You look tired, crewman. Are you sleeping okay?"

Seokjin paused purposefully. Now was the time where he gave Jungkook a moment to deliberate; a long silence that, hopefully, the ensign would feel compelled to fill.

But instead, the young-man answered quickly. "I'm sleeping fine."

 _Nah_ , that was a lie.

"Are you getting eight hours?"

He rolled his eyes. "I'm an ensign in a command program aboard a starship, doctor. I have my usual responsibilities and then, on top of that, my shadowing-duties, my studies, _and_ my advanced training." He looked at the doctor pointedly. "How many hours do _you_ think I'm getting?"

Seokjin refrained the urge to sass the ensign right back. Now was not the time for his short temper to flare.

Doctor Kim  was a professional, after all.

"If your work load is too much, Mr Jeon, I'm sure you can speak to your commanding officer and request some breathing room --"

A wave of fury rolled through Jungkook. "Permission to speak freely, sir?"

The doctor raised his brows. "Granted," he said tentatively.

"There's nothing wrong with my work-load and there's nothing wrong with _me._ I don't know why I'm here and frankly, sir, I feel like my time's being wasted. I don't get a lot of it to myself so I tend to make use of it when I do. So, if I'm here for an actual, _real_ reason, I'd prefer you just spat it out instead of beating around the bush."

The doctor took a deep breath in. Frankly, the way that Jungkook's anger had gone off inside his mind like a thunder-clap, had shocked the doctor a little bit. He'd met the kid before and he'd been nice - shy, even. Definitely not predisposed to this type of anger.

Given, Ensign Jeon had lashed out at one stage and socked another officer in the face, but Seokjin had known, straight away, that his actions had come from a place of _protection._ Jungkook wasn't the type to do harm - wasn't really, consciously, a fighter - he was more predisposed to kindness and care. When he'd punched that filthy, homophobic, prick in the face it was less out of a need to hurt the other, and more out of a need to stop the other from hurting someone else.

The Jungkook that sat in front of him now was much different. This Jungkook felt white-hot, like a little volcano prepped for eruption.

Or... or maybe _not._ Listening to the echo of his mind, the way his thoughts moved in and out of phase, Seokjin felt as if a better analogy might be to compare the crewman to an animal. He was dangerous in that he was cornered. Cornered and...

And _wounded_.

Gods he was so wounded that Seokjin was surprised he hadn't sensed it before. It was buried, certainly, beneath a mountain of rage - but it was there none-the-less.

And this particular brand of hurt was so visceral and so _painful_ and so all-encompassing that it practically took Jin's breath away. Suddenly he was less of a doctor, less of a therapist, and one-hundred percent betazoid. He wanted to reach across the desk and take Jungkook's hands in his own and tell him that he knew exactly how he felt, because he could feel it too: he could feel all the suffering and all the hurt, all the tears lost into his pillow-case; he knew how debilitating the pull could be when it wasn't --

 _Wait, what_?

Jin realized that not only was he _empathetic_ to Jungkook's emotions, he was also _sympathetic,_ as well _._ He'd felt these feelings before, himself; he'd felt like his heart had been torn out of his chest; he'd sobbed into his pillow case until he couldn't breath; he'd thought he was literally going to _die_ of it.

And he'd wished that he had.

He'd wished that his pain was enough to kill him. And he'd been _angry_ \- _so fucking angry -_ that it wasn't.

Seokjin's mouth fell open. "J-jungkook are you _bonded_?"

The crewman's jaw clenched in annoyance. "I don't even know what that means, sir."

"Y-you don't?"

"Honestly, sir. Like I said, I have no _clue_ why I'm here."

"W-well the captain asked me to speak to you because you've seemed out-of-sorts but --"

Seokjin's mind was racing at warp speed. Yes, he was scanning Jungkook's consciousness, but he wasn't Taehyung - he couldn't dive inside like his brother might and just _retrieve_ the information he needed. And Jungkook's mind was focused on other things: his fury, for one: how irritated he was that Seokjin had called him to sick-bay; how _viscerally_ he didn't want to see the doctor. And not just because he was _a doctor_ , he didn't want to see _Seokjin_ ; he didn't want him inside his head - Seokjin _specifically -_ ghosting around trying to decode all his private thoughts and the feelings he was trying _so fucking hard_ to bury.

_I don't want to be here with this asshole._

_Fuck, why won't he let me go?_

_Jesus Christ, I just want to sleep._

_This is fucking stupid._

_I hate literally everybody._

_Can't he just leave me alone? Fuck._

Seokjin met the crewman's irritated gaze.

And then:

**_They have the same dark eyes._ **

"Oh my Gods."

Jungkook clamps down on the thought so hard that Seokjin felt like someone had trapped his mind in a vice.

"B-but that's --"

He was about to say _'impossible',_ but was it, really? Impossible?

He hadn't, honestly, seen his brother much over the past two months. They'd were working on the same goddamn ship and Taehyung felt so far out of his reach that it was making Seokjin feel a little bit sad. Every-time he tried to organize something with his brother he was always busy: busy with work, busy realigning navigation, busy with that new girl - what was her name? Amanda? - that he'd been seeing.

Taehyung had straight up blown Seokjin off when he'd finally pegged the pilot down and organized dinner; he'd missed him, he'd been so excited that he'd replicated all of Taehyung's favorite foods in bulk, and yet, when dinner rolled around, his brother never showed. He'd called him through ships communications and Taehyung hadn't even bothered to answer. He'd found him using the internal sensors - he'd been with that girl. Again.

So the idea that Jungkook - sad, heartbroken, _soul-broken_ , Jungkook - was bonded with his _brother,_ and they weren't _together,_ was a tough pill to swallow.

Sure, Seokjin and Namjoon hadn't been  _dating_ straight off the bat - it'd taken three years, actually - but over those years they'd been side-by-side, practically hand-in-hand the whole time. They never went more than two days without seeing each-other, and on those days Seokjin felt so tired and lethargic that it was difficult to even get out of bed. That was the nature of the bond. It was as physical as it was emotional, and the concept that Taehyung was getting around just fine without his Imzadi, especially so early into the bonding, seemed impossible.

But it had to be Taehyung. What Seokjin could feel from Jungkook was an incomplete soul-bond, a strictly Betazoid condition, and he _knew_ _for a fact_ that himself and Taehyung were the only Betazoids aboard the ship.

An incomplete bond would surely fucking hurt, for Jungkook, but it could straight-up _kill_ Taehyung if he wasn't careful.

But his brother was doing fine?

So maybe it _wasn't_ Taehyung.

But, again - one ship, two Betazoids: Jin wasn't bonded to Jungkook, and that only left Taehyung.

And Jungkook had looked at Seokjin and he'd seen Taehyung's eyes. Then he'd felt so, so goddamn sad. He'd tried to cover the sadness - another lick of white-hot fury - but he wasn't fast enough: the doctor had felt it, clear as day, tearing through his psyche like an awful deep-blue wave. Seokjin was surprised Jungkook could even _function,_ considering how powerful the break was.

 _He must feel like he's dying,_ the doctor thought to himself. _He must wish that he was, or he wouldn't try to hide behind all this anger._

"Jungkook," Seokjin opened his mouth to say... something. But what could he possibly offer? What advice could he possible give in a situation like this?

He couldn't mention Taehyung - that was for sure. He was pretty sure that the ensign couldn't even _think_ his name, right now, and Seokjin wasn't going to risk throwing him over the edge. He wasn't going to force it out of him.

He wasn't that cruel.

"Jungkook," he sighed. "You can go, ensign. Go have a nap or something - you look tired. We can talk later."

The ensign raised his brows. "Seriously? Why did you even call me down here?"

If it were any other situation he might tell the crewman to watch his tone. But no. He couldn't. Not considering.

"Dismissed, ensign. Sorry to bother you."

Jungkook didn't say another word. He just huffed, got up, and without so much as a  'thank you, sir', left the room.

When the coast was clear, Seokjin pressed against his communicator.

"Kim Seokjin to Kim Taehyung. Get your ass up to sick-bay _right fucking now."_

* * *

 

Fucking Amanda was a bit like finding a diet-food that was kind-of okay and then eating so much of it - in the hopes that it might cure the pasta-craving - that it literally made you fucking _sick._

Yeah, it was disgusting. It made Taehyung want to gag a little.

But it was better than the alternative, and Amanda seemed to be enjoying herself.

Taehyung pulled out, and the girl drooped against the pillows. He always fucked her from behind. He could tolerate being inside her and he could tolerate the sound of her moaning his name. But he could not tolerate kissing her while he fucked her.

Could not tolerate looking at her during the act.

Taehyung hates himself and he's not out to try and convince anyone any different. He'd made clear to Amanda that he was just in it for the sex, and although she had been disappointed and her crush on him hadn't lessened at all, he could sense that he wasn't breaking her heart or anything - so he buried the guilty feeling deep, deep down, and focused on making sure she came every time.

That was the most he could offer.

On the other hand, he found it hard to come. Most of the time just fucking into her wasn't enough to do it, so the girl often insisted that she suck him off afterwards because ' _it's give and take, Taehyung'._

He let her. That's what she was doing right now. He knew that if he opened his eyes he'd see her staring up at him, blinking innocently as she swallowed him down, _trying_ despite everything to connect with him, though he resisted time and time again.

He had no intention of looking at her. He just looked at the wall across the other side of her quarters and tried not to think about _him_. Those thoughts were as off limits as any kind _intimacy_ with the girl in front of him. None-the-less sometimes Jungkook's doe-eyes and his slim upper-lip would flash through Taehyung's mind and he'd blown his load down Amanda's throat so violently that the girl would be left wondering exactly what she's done  _right_ this time, to get him off like that. Those were the moments when Taehyung felt the most disgusting.

Jungkook on his mind; Amanda on his cock. Taehyung in-between them, giving himself to neither but fucking around with both.

Yeah, he hated himself. That's for sure.

But it was better than the alternative.

"Are you close, Tae?" Amanda's mouth popped off his dick with a nasty smack of her lips.

"No." Taehyung said.

If this were any other hook-up he might be irritated with himself. Honestly though, he was just wasting time. Had nothing else to do, was feeling particularly sore in all his muscles, and Amanda was off-duty for another hour. He'd figured maybe she could help him out.

"Oh, well, I have duty in like, fifteen and I still gotta shower and stuff so, is it okay if we call it?"

The empath shrugged. "Yeah, that's cool."

"Um, okay." She pulled away and Taehyung could feel her distress and her embarrassment and her irritation that this time she didn't have the satisfaction of knowing she'd brought him to orgasm, despite how distant he was keeping her.

He had to resist the temptation to laugh. She'd never made him come. Not even once. It was always the though of _him_ that finished the young pilot off.

"Do you wanna have a shower with me?"

But Taehyung was already tucking his undershirt into his pants.

Yeah, he never took his clothes off, either. He only shrugged his pants down far enough to let his dick free; he would've kept his jacket on, as well, if he didn't always start to overheat half way through the act.

"Nah, that's cool." He breathes. "This was fun - let's do this again."

He could feel Amanda pulling away, so he threw her a little praise. Usually that did the trick.

"No, Tae, I think we should stop."

Ah, not this time, though.

The empath tried to hide his irritation. Sure, he could find someone else. But Amanda was convenient, and she'd liked him for so long that she was practically willing to put up with anything.

Almost anything, it seems.

"Okay," he says, finally. "If that's what you want, then, sure."

Amanda puts her arms across her chest in an attempt to find some modesty. It works. Her tits are so small that she probably could've covered them with three-fingers.

"I-it's not what I want, Tae, but - something's wrong with you. I know you've never l-liked me back but - but you've never been like _this_. You've never been _cruel_."

Is he being cruel? He always answered Amanda when she called and took her to dinner when she asked; if they weren't fucking he let her kiss him, forced his mouth to move against hers even though the fleshy taste of her lips disgusted him; he always made sure she came when they fucked - even if he was tired, or bored, or particularly turned-off by the sounds she was making underneath him.

And yet, at the same time, he wouldn't look at her when they fucked; he wouldn't take his clothes off, or cuddle her afterwards; he didn't listen to a word that came out of her mouth when she talked at him; where he had once thought of her as a good friend, now, he didn't really give a shit about her. She was a means to an end. Everyone felt like a means to an end, these days.

So yeah, he's being cruel, he supposes. He is really fucking cruel.

"Sorry," he says. And he means it, sort-of half-heatedly, like he means everything these days. He just can't find the energy to give much of a shit.

"Taehyung I'm - I'm hurt. You've hurt me, b-but I'm also really worried about you. This isn't _you,_ Tae. I've known you for ages and you're not like this. Something's happened, hasn't it? Has someone hurt you?"

Yeah, they had. Taehyung'd fucking hurt himself. He'd taken a white-hot knife in the form of a brown-haired, doe-eyed ensign, and plunged it deep into his heart, twisting it around to make sure he caused _just_ enough damage to ensure that the wound was irreparable.

It hurt. It hurt so much that sometimes Taehyung woke up in the night and couldn't remember how he was supposed to breathe through such a pain - was it even possible to do so? And those were the nights that the empath had _no_ dreams. On the nights were he dreamt of  _him_ in his arms, nose-to-nose, feeling how safe and how loved the younger-man felt, feeling his love in return; on the nights where they made love, kissing and touching and holding one another - looking into each-other's eyes - facing each other so that they could moan against each-other's lips and catch the sounds in their mouths: those were the nights that Taehyung woke up and spent hours hunched over in his bathroom, throwing up into the basin because that's the closest thing he could reach.

Those were the worst nights.

"I'm fine, Mandy, just tired from work."

He glanced at the girl who was pulling a large shirt over her head, and when the collar was situated atop her tiny shoulders she watched Taehyung with doubtful eyes, her full lips scrunched to the side of her face.

"I don't believe you," she said. "But I'm not going to force it out of you. You know that if you need to talk, I'm here, right? I still care about you, and all that. I don't want you to suffer alone."

 _Youch_.

Now Taehyung just hates himself more.

"Thanks, Mandy. Um, sorry about -- yeah. Didn't mean to fuck you around or anything."

Well that's a lie. Fucking around is exactly what he'd wanted her for.

"It's... fine. Or, um, it will be. It'll be fine."

They stood awkwardly, in the center of her quarters.

"Um, I have to get ready, so..."

"Yeah, I'll go. Thank you, I - um - yeah, sorry again."

And that was that.

Taehyung was already half-way back to his own quarters when his communicator sounded:

_"Kim Seokjin to Kim Taehyung. Get your ass up to sick-bay **right fucking now.** " _

He pressed against his chest, brow curling. "Hyung? Everything alright? I was just going back to my room for a nap, so --"

"Right fucking now Kim Taehyung. Report to sick bay, that's an _order_."

"Um, o-okay? On my way, sir."

That's odd. Taehyung spins around on his foot and back-tracks towards the turbo-lift. Maybe his brother's finally caught on to the fact that he was avoiding him. Even so it's strange that he would ask him to 'report to sickbay' in such an official manner. Usually, if Jin's desperate to track him down, he'd just rock up at the pilot's quarters unannounced, buzz his alert-bell thirty times until Taehyung couldn't possibly ignore it any longer, and let his brother inside.

To call him to sick-bay like this is... weird. It makes Taehyung nervous, which is probably the most visceral sort of emotion he's felt in weeks, so he reaches out with his mind and taps against his brother's consciousness - so gentle that the telepath probably cant even tell that he's there.

What Taehyung feels is, well, frankly, completely off. Seokjin is _scared_ \- not scared in the 'I'm in mortal danger' sort of way, but scared none the less. He's sort-of struck with disbelief, but also _certain_ about... about something. Taehyung can't read his thoughts so he really can't tell. His brother is worried, very deeply concerned about... again, Taehyung can't tell.

Fuck, his abilities are irritating sometimes. What the fuck is the point in having all this psychic power if he can't get the answers that he _needs,_ when he needs them.

He picks up his pace, suddenly desperate to get to sick-bay. _Something must be seriously wrong with Jin-hyung to have him feeling so frantic,_ Taehyung tinks to himself. He can only assume that something's happened with Namjoon. Maybe finally, after all these weeks, they've had that conversation that they so  _desperately_ needed and sorted something out. Or  _failed_ to sort something out. 

But, then again, Taehyung can't really taste that rosy flavor that always floods through his mind whenever Jin thinks, or speaks, or sees Namjoon. Whether their conversation had been good or bad or disastrous, Namjoon always made his brother flush pink.

Taehyung hails the turbo-lift and waits, his bottom lip perched between his teeth.

It arrivs in less than thirty-seconds, and Taehyung sends a silent thanks to the 24th century technology Gods as the doors pull open.

But there are no Gods, are there?

Not really.

"J-Jungkook," he breathes, and the relief of saying his name sort-of winds the empath.

The pull that he's been fighting to ignore for practically two fucking months tugs at his whole body and makes it feel like he can't quite fit inside his own skin.

So it isn't really his fault, is it? He can't be blamed when he reaches towards Jungkook, his hands outstretched, pleading to be taken in return.

His Imzadi looks so pretty. Prettier than he even remembered: those doe-eyes so large and so chocolatey, and his hair all silky and soft in the way that it falls over his forehead. But he looks so tired. Why does he look so tired? Has he been sleeping poorly? No, that isn't good. That isn't good at all. Jungkook has to sleep and he has to eat well or he won't feel good, and the only thing that someone as beautiful and lovely as him should feel is _good_.

Taehyung is there to make him feel _good_. He was put in the universe _for_ Jungkook, after all. He was here to keep him safe, and make him feel loved and needed and _wanted_. Jesus, the only reason Taehyung is _breathing is_ to love Jungkook. What had he been doing for two months? Why had he swapped his duty schedule with Samuels so that they never saw each-other? That was a stupid idea. He couldn't care for Jungkook - couldn't show him he loved him - if he couldn't _see_ him.

He wanted to see Jungkook every minute of ever day. Wanted to be able to reach out and touch him and let him know that he was so, so _loved_.

Jungkook, who looked so happy to see Taehyung. He felt so happy to see Taehyung, just for a moment.

Less than a moment.

Half a second.

A fraction of a second, maybe.

Then, all Taehyung could taste was _black_.

"J-Jungkookie?"

" _ **Get the fuck away from me!** " _The crewman spits and he slips away, passed Taehyung's open palms, as if he was trying to avoid being _burned._ "Don't fucking call me that, either. We a-aren't fucking _friends,_ okay? Just stay away from me!"

Had Taehyung's eyes turned black? Had Jungkook seen his eyes and been so disgusted by what he saw that he didn't want Taehyung to touch him?

What other reason was there for the _hatred_ that he felt.

Taehyung hears the doors of the turbolift slide shut but he can't turn around; he can't open his mouth and call out to Jungkook - beg him not to be afraid, and not to hate him and not to feel so _sad._

 _Why do you feel so sad,_   _Imzadi?_

_Is it me? Do I make you sad?_

_Is it because I'm like this? Because I'm so disgusting?_

_My Imzadi hates me._

_He hates me._

**_How am I going to live?_ **

* * *

"Doctor Kim to Lieutenant Kim, where the fuck are you?" 

-

"Lieutenant Kim, please respond."

-

"Fucking oath, Taehyung, if you don't respond I'm gonna come down there and I'm going to strangle you with my own bare hands, medical oath be damned!"

-

"Kim Taehyung!"

-

"Fuck, computer, locate Lieutenant Kim."

" **Lieutenant Kim is in turbo-lift three."**

"The fuck? That's right outside. What the fuck's he doing?"

-

" _Oh my Gods, Taehyungie, oh my Gods._ **Medical Team to turbo-lift three. Medical Emergency**!"   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanna make a note here to let y'all know that there's no condoms in this fic because I'm assuming that in the 24th century they've got more advanced means of protecting against STIs and and unwanted-pregnancy. 
> 
> Seeing as we're not in the 24th century, please use a fucking condom if you're having sex. No glove no love, okay? Promise this author. PROMISE ME.


	8. That Which Ties Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Imzadi: Part One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayyyyy, you guys leave me the best comments. They make my heart feel all fluttery and uwu
> 
> ALSO I HAVE TWITTER NOW. Come yell at me and stuff @Mussells1 
> 
> Also set up like a real proper email for this because my inbox was dying a bit. If you have something you wanna send me privately: fictionalmussells@gmail.com
> 
> (even when you yell at me, nay, / especially / when you yell at me) 
> 
> Betcha weren't expecting such a fast update! Jokes on you, I may be a sadist but I'm an impatient sadist so I wrote this at the same time so I could post it today. HAHA Love you all!

Namjoon ran his hands across the very tips of Taehyung's bangs, brushing them out of his eyes. He was such a pretty kid: especially when he was smiling. Taehyung used to be all giggles and all smiles... it was something Namjoon loved about him; he seemed to always be so weightless. He was always under so much pressure and yet he always seemed so  _free._ It made Namjoon feel a little guilty that he was so goddamn _serious_ all the time. If Taehyung - infinitely complex, enigmatic Taehyung - could still be so free, then what the fuck was Namjoon doing? Wasting his time. That's what.

Right now, he looked like he could be sleeping.

If he didn't know better, Namjoon would just choose to believe Taehyung was asleep.

"How is he, Jin?"

The doctor tensed at his side. "Well he's -- well really he's --"

Namjoon was expecting him to offer something along the lines of, ' _well he's critical, but he's stable,'._

Instead the doctor said, "well he's _fucked, really."_ And then he promptly collapsed into Namjoon's arms and _sobbed_.

"Hey, Jinnie, God, please don't cry." He wrapped his arms around Jin's middle and pulled the doctor deep into his chest. "It's going to be okay, alright? Everything's going to be fine. We'll figure this out - we're gonna figure this out together."

Namjoon wanted to sob as well, truthfully, but his need to comfort Jin - his need to protect Jin - was stronger, so he swallowed the tears instead.

"Y-you d-don't unders-stand," Jin cried, burying his face so deeply in the crook of Namjoon's neck that the man's shoulder muffled his voice.

"Then explain it to me," the captain said quietly.

Jin just choked on another sob. "I c-can't," he said. "I-I'm b-bound by Betazoid law a-as a doctor. I c-can't tell you w-what's w-wrong with h-him."

Namjoon sucked in a frustrated breath. "I don't understand, Jin. What medical information is off-limits to a Captain when one of his officer's lives is in jeopardy?"

"T-this i-information. Th-there's only one o-other person a-aboard this sh-ship I can t-talk to an th-they w-won't even u-understand wh-what I - I'm t-talking about."

"Well who is it," Namjoon asked, pulling Jin away slightly so he could reach for his communicator. "I'll call them here straight away."

Jin grasped his hand with a panicked expression and pulled it away from the insignia-clip. "N-no w-we definitely c-can't do that," he sniffled. "We c-can't do that."

"Why _not,_ Jin? Taehyung's in a _coma_ and he's _critical_. What won't we do to save him?"

"I know that!" Jin snapped. "D-don't you think I f-fucking k-know that?!"

Namjoon sighed, reaching up so he could brush a streak of wetness off the doctor's face. "You're right, of course. I'm sorry. C'mere," he pulled Jin back against his chest and Jin seemed happy enough to let him.

They stood there for a long moment, Namjoon just holding him, Jin just breathing hotly against his neck, hiccuping from time to time as his breathing slowed.

"Jin?"

Namjoon turned towards the voice and found his second most senior medical officer - Doctor Sidney - watching the pair with a sympathetic expression.

Any other time maybe he would've pushed Jin away. Any other time maybe Jin, himself, might've sprung backward. But not now. _Let anyone see us_ , Namjoon thought to himself. _Let anyone see, I don't fucking care._

"Yes, Lucy?" Jin sniffled and perched his chin against Namjoon's shoulder so he could look at his colleague.

The woman was older than Jin, obviously, and she had a tender expression: the kind your friend's mother might have if you told them you were having a bad day.

"Honey, your shift ended five hours ago and you've been awake since yesterday. I know you want to stay with your brother, but you really need to get some sleep, okay? The Lieutenant is stable, I _promise_ to watch him closely. If anything goes wrong, I'll contact you immediately, alright? But please go and get some rest. You can't help anyone if you're exhausted."

Namjoon could feel the squaring of Jin's shoulders as his mouth opened to argue.

"That's a good idea," he offered. "Even if it's just a nap, it's better than nothing."

"But --"

"Hey, don't make me order you," Namjoon whispered against Seokjin's ear. "I can still do that, y'know?"

The doctor huffed. "Fine," he mumbled and peeled himself away from Namjoon so he couldn't run his hands through his hair and straighten out his blue lab-coat. "I don't care if his heart-rate drops half a percent, Lucy. If I don't hear about it you're gonna have hell to pay, alright?"

The woman smiled. "Yes, Jin."

"Okay, alright, um," Jin turned around to his brother and put a soft hand against his face. When he didn't say anything - when he just watched Taehyung's features with an intense gaze - Namjoon assumed he was communicating something telepathically. Soon enough, he pulled away. "Okay, well, I guess I'll go then. I - I won't be gone for long, Lucy. Just, please call me if anything changes, okay?"

"Of course I will, sweetie. Get some rest, alright?"

"Yeah, um, I'll try."

Namjoon didn't have to reach out; Jin took the captain's hand himself and interlocked their fingers. He allowed Namjoon to pull him tentatively from Taehyung's side, and out of sick-bay.

In the hallway near the turbolift, Jin stopped. "This feels wrong," he breathed.

"I know it does, baby, but you really can't expect to give your best if you haven't slept in thirty-six hours, can you?"

Seokjin just sighed and Namjoon watched a lick of raven hair fall across his forehead. He reached across and brushed it back, reveling in the way Jin closed his eyes and hummed against his touch.

This was a double-edged sword.

On the one hand, Namjoon's heart was swollen inside his chest at the way Jin was so receptive to his words and to his touch. This was how it used to be: skin against skin always, gentle words of love and affection passed between them during hard times; Seokjin liked to be cradled in Namjoon's arms and Namjoon liked to cradle him. Maybe it was because the doctor was older, but it had always given Namjoon so much pleasure to know that he could turn the Betazoid to putty; Seokjin would submit to him if he needed love and comfort and Namjoon knew that made him special. Because Jin was a fire-cracker. He bowed to no-one.

On the other hand, his brother had never been in a coma, his life teetering awfully and mysteriously on the edge.

Why was it always tragedy that brought people together, like this? Why couldn't they just come together on their own?

"Come on," Namjoon breathed, stepping into the lift. "I'll walk you to your quarters."

Seokjin fumbled awkwardly at the door. "Um, is it o-okay if I stay with you, instead?"

As if Namjoon wasn't already barely fucking holding it together, those words were enough to knock all the air out of his lungs.

He stared at the doctor in minor shock, and Jin brought his hands to his face in mortification. "Oh Gods, that was so inappropriate. I - I'm so s-sorry I shouldn't ha --"

"Fuck, Jin, of _course_ you can. Jesus Christ," he pulled the doctor into the turbolift. "Deck Eight," he said.

The doors slid and the turbo-lift took off and Namjoon managed to watch Seokjin fumble awkwardly for maybe two seconds before he reached out and grasped the doctor's hands with his own.

"When did we get so nervous around each-other?" He asked.

Jin laughed humorlessly. "I don't know, but I hate it." And then he was interlocking their fingers again.

Namjoon was fucking reeling, to tell the truth. How could he feel so fucking good and so _bad_ at the same time?

When the turbo-lift came to a halt, the captain didn't even bother to check if there was anyone in the hallway before he stepped out, hand in hand with Jin, and lead the doctor towards his quarters.

That double-edged sword again. Why did this feel like prom night, but also something far, far less joyful?

A funeral, maybe.

But Taehyung was still alive. Namjoon mustn't think like that. Taehyung was still alive and he'd fight for his little brother until his last fucking breath.

The doors of Namjoon's quarters opened without prompt and the captain stepped inside, not missing the way his hand, still wrapped around Jin's, jerked a little as the doctor paused at the threshold.

Namjoon cringed. Maybe Jin was worried he was expecting something from him. God, he couldn't think that, could he? Didn't he know Namjoon better than that? Couldn't he feel that all the captain wanted to do was look after him, and protect him and give him all the comfort he needed to feel even an iota of okay-ness, right now?

"Jin, I - I won't do - I mean I'm n-not expecting anything, okay? I just w-want you to feel safe."

The doctor looked up at him with surprise. "Of course you're not," he said, a little line appearing between his brows. "I was just thinking about how much bigger your room is than mine..."

Namjoon stared, but eventually he exhaled with relief. "Just, come inside already, please?"

Suddenly the captain felt a little bashful. His room was kind of messy: as usual he had papers and books and data-pads sprawled across his desk and his bed, and the floor. He hadn't even bothered to pull his blankets up, the chair in the study-nook was piled high with unwashed clothes, and his shoes were strewn right from the far corner to the front entrance of the space.

Seokjin sighed. "See you're doing particularly poorly without me to clean up after you?"

Namjoon felt his ears go pink. "Yeah, w-well, I could never look after myself as well as you looked after me."

The doctor ran his fingers through the short hairs behind Namjoon's temple. "You know the replicator will literally do your laundry for you, right? You just have to put it in there and it's all automatic; folds it for you and everything."

"I've been really busy?" Namjoon offered.

Seokjin just shook his head and blew an amused stream of air out of his nose. As he stepped further into Namjoon quarters, the captain could feel his heart hammering inside his chest. The doctor knew him too well to miss the fact that Namjoon shared the space with someone else: Jin's memory. There were pictures of them on the walls, old shoes that he'd borrowed and never returned, presents he'd been given by the Betazoid on display in the bookcases.

"You kept our blanket," Jin whispered, proving his point.

Namjoon ran a hand across the back of his own neck. "Yeah, I did," he said.

On his bed, strewn out underneath last-night's reports, was the fluffy white blanket Jin had gifted him for his twenty-third birthday. He'd grown tired of hearing how sensitive Namjoon was to the air-conditioning inside the Academy's post-graduate dorm that he'd bought him the fluffy-throw to shut him up. It became an, almost, necessity to the pair. They'd made love on that blanket, had picnics on that blanket, taken it camping, huddled beneath it after a long-stressful day; they'd sworn forever to each-other with the fluffy, white fabric draped across their shoulders as they watched the sun-rise over Golden Gate Bridge.

"There's a ghost in here, Namjoon," the Betazoid whispered quietly.

Namjoon cringed. "Yeah, I guess there is."

"Why do you keep it around when I'm right here?"

If those words didn't feel like a punch in the gut...

"I never thought you'd be next to me again," the captain admitted in a sigh.

"But you wanted me to be?" The doctor asked him.

That was an easy one.

"Of course I did," Namjoon said.

Jin didn't jump into his arms or cry with happiness like he might've if he were a character in a holonovel. Instead he just said, "okay," resolutely, like he'd come to some sort of decision, and started shrugging his lab-coat off-of his broad shoulders as the lights of the bathroom lit up the white-space around him.

"You have a real shower," Jin mused, eyes falling on the generous glass-clad square in the far corner of the room.

"Yeah," Namjoon laughed a little. "Captains perks, I guess. They tried to convince me into a null-gravity sleeping chamber as well but I figured that much would be over kill."

Seokjin bobbed his head back and forward. "I'm gonna take a shower, if that's okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, of course. I'll, um, replicate you a towel, one-sec."

Namjoon moved across to the replicator and instructed the computer to create a larger, fluffier bath-sheet for Jin. When he had the plush fabric grasped tightly in his hands, he turned back to the bathroom, and stopped dead in his tracks to see Jin standing, already shirtless, soft-skin and broad shoulders on display in _his_ quarters, looking at _him_ like that. The way he always used to... before.

Practically on auto-pilot, he stumbled towards the entrance of the bathroom and held the towel outstretched for Jin, who took it casually out of his hands as if he wasn't the most beautiful creature in the whole entire known universe, past and present and future.

"Um," Namjoon stammered. "If you just press the pad on the wall just there it'll seal the room; I'll j-just be out here if you need anything."

Seokjin closed his eyes for a long moment; when he opened them again he had a pained expression. "It hurts more when you're away from me," he whispered. "I need you right now."

And that was really enough for Namjoon. He didn't need to hear anything else. If Jin needed him then it was going to take an omnipotent space-entity with boundless power to hold him back. He stepped into the bathroom without a second word, and although he didn't need to, pressed his hand against the door-pad so the partition closed behind him, limiting the space.

"Sorry," Jin said, eyes cast towards the floor. "This isn't fair, is it?"

Namjoon took the doctor's face between his hands, angling it so Jin couldn't avoid his gaze. "That - that's not a thing between us, okay? If you need me I'm here. Forever and always, alright?"

Jin pressed his lips together and his eyes clouded with red. "Yeah," he said. "Yeah, okay, I know that."

"Okay," the captain breathed, running a thumb softly against the doctor's cheekbone. "Okay, shower-on."

* * *

 

This was... exactly as Jin remembered, really.

The water was so hot that it was scalding but Namjoon didn't complain, he let the doctor increase the temperature over and over again until the steam was so thick that they couldn't see past the borders of the glass. Seokjin let the back of his head rest against the captain's shoulder as Namjoon rubbed his thumbs into the tight muscle's of the doctor's upper back. He didn't try anything; he hadn't touched Jin as they undressed, hadn't tried to kiss him, even. Jin would've let him if he'd tried, honestly, but he was oddly touched that he hadn't.

Boundaries. Jin was in the shower, naked, with Namjoon, and the captain was still respecting his boundaries.

Jin turned around and slung his hands across the captain's shoulders, hugging the man into his chest so tightly that the pressure of his body against the doctor's was almost enough to numb the ache inside. He felt Namjoon's hands lie flat against the base of his back and felt so much relief at his touch that it was almost overwhelming. Seokjin knew that the man in front of him was the only reason he was holding it together. Couldn't be luckier, in this moment, that Namjoon was allowing the doctor to take whatever he needed, so selfishly.

How could Namjoon let him do this? He'd promised him - he'd straight up promised him - that they would talk after what happened on Risa: then, he'd avoided Namjoon for almost two-months. If they were in the same room, Seokjin couldn't make eye-contact; if the captain tried to organize something, even though he was so gentle, and so reserved in his offers, the doctor always said no.

But there he was when Jin needed him: gentle and respectful and perfect and wonderful as Seokjin had always remembered him. Giving all of himself and asking nothing in return. He was so easy to love.

"I'm s-sorry," the doctor choked, his chin hooked around Namjoon's shoulder. "I - I've b-been so horrible t-to you. I - I'm b-being so s-selfish."

"Shhh, it's okay, Jin. I'm literally the last person in this universe who could shit you for being _selfish_."

Ah, he was referring to what happened back then. He was always taking them back to that day, three years ago.

"I d-don't care about that a-anymore."

"Well you should," Namjoon kissed the top of Jin's bare shoulder. "Let's not worry about it now, though, okay? We'll talk about it later. Just let me hold you, for now."

Fuck, had more perfect words ever been spoken? Seokjin was so fucking moved that he felt _dizzy_ ; to be honest, his vision had tunneled and he'd worried his legs were going to buckle beneath him when Namjoon said those words.

"C-can I k-kiss you?" Seokjin asked.

Namjoon shifted so the pair were nose-to-nose. "Of course you can," Namjoon smiled gently and angled his lips so all Seokjin had to do was shift upwards to reach them.

So that's what the doctor did. He shifted upward and closed that little space so that his and Namjoon's mouths were slotted together.

He couldn't taste the captain, exactly, with the amount of hot water than was rushing over them, and all the steam in the air. Either way, this was so wonderful and brought with it such relief that Seokjin _sighed_ and felt his eyes flutter shut as Namjoon's full lips pressed softly into his own, licking away his worries, making him feel so cared for and so loved and so protected that he wondered, if only for a brief moment, whether the situation was quite as dire as he'd thought only a few moments ago.

With Namjoon in this world to look after them, Taehyung and Seokjin were going to be fine. There was nothing that could hurt them, really, if Namjoon was around to love and protect them as he always had and always would. Kissing Namjoon was like making a promise that everything was going to work out. Feeling the captain's arms weave around his middle, hitching him up slightly so they were the same height, was like making a pact to live a happy life.

So he continued to kiss the captain. Continued to bask in that feeling. Ran his hands through his lover's hair, across the strong, muscled plains of his shoulders and down his spine. It was so nice. It was so nice to have him like this again: not a quick, desperate, slightly inappropriate kiss shared between two out-of-sync people in the captain's ready room; instead, a slow, loving embrace, a meeting of two bonded souls who cared for each-other more than they could even put into words.

Seokjin could feel that love and that care. He could feel is running across his consciousness in waves as he licked into Namjoon's mouth, allowing the hot water from the shower to run across their tongues as they met each-other again for the first time in what felt like forever.

This was how the bond was supposed to work. A Betzoid bonding was all about love and care; it wasn't supposed to be dangerous or destructive. It was two minds and hearts and souls brought together to protect one another. Like right now, Seokjin had been practically frantic, ready to completely fall apart, but kissing Namjoon, holding Namjoon, made him feel strong and sure and lucid and awake. His Imzadi was there to take _away_ his fear. Not compound them.

Imzadi?

Jin's lips pulled away, and Namjoon chased him a little before the hazy, love-sick look in his eye drifted back to lucidity.

"You're my Imzadi," Jin said, his eyes widening with awareness.

Namjoon choked, a sob breaking free of his mouth. "I am?"

Jin cocked his head. "Of course you are," he said. " _Of course you are,"_ and it was like a light-bulb going off.

He crushed his lips against Namjoon's.

Fuck, why hadn't he realized this _before_.

Jin pulled away after another long moment. "Shower-off," he said. "Put some clothes on, Imzadi, I just realized something."

And it took Namjoon a minute to collect himself, but he followed after Seokjin, their fingers still intertwined.

* * *

"You asked me what information I wasn't able to disclose to a starship captain when one of his officer's lives was risk, right?"

Namjoon nodded his head slowly. "Yeah, and you said you were bound by Betazoid law."

"I am bound my Betazoid law. I'm completely bound by betazoid law!" Jin smiled, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

Namjoon was kind of worried that maybe he shouldn't have let him keep the water so hot; maybe all the steam had turned him a little yumpy.

"I'm really not following you, Imzadi." God, saying that word again gave him so much pleasure it was difficult to speak it in anything but a moan.

Jin explained. "When it comes to incomplete soul-mating the information is strictly confidential: it can't pass the bounds of the doctor and/or the patient, the bonded, and the _family."_

Namjoon was still confused. "I still don't get it, babe."

The doctor rolled his eyes. "I can't disclose information to my _captain_ , Joonie, but I _can_ share it with my _husband_."

The floor fell out from underneath Namjoon. "W-when d-did you g-get m-married?"

Jin scrunched up his face in annoyance. "Oh my fucking Gods, seriously, Namjoon? Is your IQ really 148? Why are you so fucking dense?"

But Namjoon could barely think. He could barely think past the idea that Jin belonged to anybody but him. "Y-you g-got m-married to s-someone else?"

Maybe he _was_ going to cry, after-all.

Jin threw his hands into the air. "No, you fucking fool! _You_ are my _Imzadi._ On Betazed soul-bonding is a _higher order than marriage,_ by law!" The doctor motioned between them. " _We_ are married, Namjoon. In the eyes of the law, on Betazed, as my Imzadi, there is _nothing_ that I cannot disclose to you!"

"Y-you got m-married to s-some e --"

Wait a hot minute.

Hold up.

"Did you just say that we're _married,_ Jin?"

"Yes, you utter, utter imbecile."

Namjoon cocked his head. "Come again?"

Jin huffed. "On Betazed we would consider a complete-bonding as akin to, fucking, I dunno, exchanging rings at a human ceremony."

"And when did that happen?" Namjoon asked, still a little dazed.

"How do you know so fucking little about this? Didn't I tell you all this?"

"To be honest, when we got together I just used to stare at your lips when you spoke I wasn't really taking much in..."

Jin opened his mouth to sass but a blush crept into his cheeks. "Well that's -- adorable, I guess, but fuck, Namjoon this information is important!"

"Since when have we been properly bonded?" The captain repeated.

"The bonding relies on emotional and physical intimacy; generally, there has to be both before a closed telepathic circuit forms around two people. We were very emotionally intimate as friends since that first day at the Academy but there was nothing physical until --"

"Until the Andorian Ale incident," Namjoon finished in a breath. "That was the first time you called me 'imzadi'."

"Yes," Jin confirmed.

"And we've been married literally since that day?"

"On Betazed, yes. Most couples will hold a ceremony as well, but it's really just a formality. By law, once a pairing is complete, a person's imzadi becomes their immediate next of kin in the same way a marriage certificate seals the deal by Federation standards."

Namjoon balked, falling silent for a very long time.

Him and Jin were married.

Him and Jin - they were _married._

_He was married to **Jin.**_

_He's been married to Jin for six_ **_years_**.

" _Holy shit_ , I've been married to you for six years."

Jin clicked his tongue. "On Betazed, yeah, you have."

Namjoon was feeling a little topsy-turvy.

"I almost had sex with a Risan girl who turned out to be a Ferengi two months ago," he said in a panic, realization dawning. "I'm an adulterer!"

"No you're not, fuck, nothing happened, anyway. Besides, you're telling me you haven't slept with anyone for three years, since we split up?"

Namjoon frowned. "Of course fucking not. Have you?"

"No, but, I'm B-Betzoid, and you're not. I-It's not the same for you..."

"Yeah, it feels pretty much the same, Jin! I can't believe you didn't tell me we were fucking _married!"_

"It's only on _Betazed!"_ The doctor whined into the air

 _"That doesn't matter!"_ Namjoon hollered in return.

The doctor scrunched his lips up tightly. "I didn't think it was that important. _"_

"Oh my God, five minutes ago you were calling _me_ an imbecile!" Namjoon ran his hand through his hair.

"Shit, Namjoon, I'm sorry! If I really thought you'd care about Betazoid tradition that much then we could've gone home and done the ceremony and everything!" Seokjin reached forward, kneeling down in front of him. "Y-you don't hate me do you?"

Namjoon watched his Imzadi with wide eyes. "No, fuck, Jin, of course not! I could never hate you!"

And then his cheeks blushed a little at the realization than he and Jin were also bound by _law_. Jin belonged to him. Jin was _his._

**It was a fucking victory.**

"Honestly, this is the best news I've had in three years, Jin. I only wish I'd known b-before..."

Jin sighed. "Imzadi, ugh, shit. We have so fucking much to work out and I just don't have it in my brain to do it right now. I'm sorry you didn't know this earlier - I really thought I told you."

"You didn't. I can assure you, you didn't."

Namjoon watched Seokjin's eye twitch and he knew the doctor well enough know he'd just resisted an eye roll.

He took a breath. "Either way, Joonie, the reason I'm telling you this _now_ is because it means I can disclose Taehyung's situation. As my Imzadi we are bound by soul and by law - we're  _family._ Taehyung is also _your_ brother, and there's no reason, none-at-all, why I can't tell you what's going on!" 

"Oh," Namjoon said. And then, " _oh."_

"Yes!"

Jin seemed hopeful. For the first time in thirty-six hours, Jin looked like he was close to a solution.

"Tell me," Namjoon said. "Explain it to me."

He pulled Jin onto the bed and wrapped the fluffy-white blanket around both their shoulders.

* * *

Yoongi was finding it hard to focus. He was sitting in the captain's chair, fingers drumming against the command-panel, eyes staring at nothing, his mind completely consumed with worry.

Lieutenant Kim had collapsed and was unresponsive. This was horrible, awful news.

Lieutenant Kim was Jimin's best friend.

Jimin must be heart-broken.

Somehow, that felt _worse_.

"Commander," that light, sugary-sweet voice was unusually heavy, "my shift is coming to a close, sir, I was hoping you might grant me permission to clock-out early?"

Of _course,_ Jimin could leave early. Shit, if he'd asked, Yoongi would've taken his position at the security-panel _himself_ , so Jimin could go do whatever he needed to do; whatever Yoongi could possibly do to make Jimin feel _okay._

He shifted in his seat. "Yes, of course Ji - I mean, uh, Lieutenant Park. That's fine, no worries at all."

Those fucking contractions, too. Since Jimin had pointed them out in his quarters two days ago - since he and Jimin had almost fucking _kissed_ \- he couldn't stop using them. Everything that came out of his mouth sounded so... _human_. And he was losing his grip on his emotions as well. Not that he felt unhinged, per se, but he _was_ rather less interested in pretending he didn't feel them, than usual.

"Thank you, so much, sir. I'll be sure to come in early for my next shift, commander."

Yoongi waved his hand through the air. "That's not necessary! J-Just look after yourself, alright?"

Jimin didn't meet his eyes. Hadn't met his eyes since that moment in his quarters.

"Y-yes, sir, I will."

Then he could hear Jimin padding silently away from his station; he could hear Jimin's fingers press against the call-button of the turbo-lift; he could hear the hail-signal, and then the doors were opening and Jimin was stepping inside and Yoongi was so desperate to go after him - so desperate to make sure he was okay - that his legs were literally shaking beneath him and --

Oh shit. Shit he was racing after Jimin.

"Commander Jung you have the bridge!"

"What, sir?"

"You're in command, chief!"

"I am, sir?"

"Yes!" Yoongi hissed over his shoulder, barely managing to evade getting crushed between two automatic doors.

"D-deck eleven," Jimin whispered, his eyes practically popping out of their sockets. "S-sir what are you doing?"

"Jimin," Yoongi panted, bending onto his knees to catch his breath. "Shit, ugh, halt turbolift," he instructed, and he felt the capsule slow to a stop with himself and Jimin inside.

"Y-Yoongi?"

The commander stood up, his eyes scanning over the Lieutenant in front of him.

It was Jimin - his lovely, pretty Jimin - but there was something new in his eyes: worry, concern, panic and confusion. Okay, Yoongi rationalized that _he_ was probably the source of the confusion. But the worry and the concern - the panic? - those were for his best friend. His strange best friend who was lying unconscious in sick bay, and no-one really knew how serious it was, or whether the pilot was going to make it, and Jimin had looked sick to his stomach at the news and from that moment forward Yoongi could focus on nothing else. All he could see or feel was Jimin.

And Yoongi just wanted to _comfort_ him. He just wanted to show him love.

"Jimin are - are you okay? I'm sorry if I startled you I j-just wanted to make sure you were alright."

The lieutenant watched him for a long moment and Yoongi felt like he might actually suffocate and die under Jimin's gaze. Maybe he had miscalculated. Maybe the Lieutenant just wanted to be alone. Why would he want to speak to his commanding officer, anyway? Yoongi probably should've sent Commander Jung after him, instead. Those two were friends, after all. Logically, Jimin would rather speak to his friend than to his First Officer, especially when he was so obviously in pain.

But, then again, Yoongi and Jimin's relationship had never really been _logical, s_ o the commander shouldn't have been surprised when the young-officer vaulted into his arms, gripping him around the shoulders with so much force that it almost _hurt_ him.

Jimin buried his face in the crook of Yoongi's shoulder and started to cry. God that was an awful, horrible sound that shouldn't exist and didn't belong in Jimin's mouth or on his lips or in his eyes. Jimin should only smile - that's what he was best at after all. Yoongi loved to see Jimin's sharp eyes crinkle at the corner, turning into unbelievable crescents when his lips curved and his teeth where on full display.

The commander wound his arms around Jimin's little waist. "Shhh," he cooed. "It's going to be okay. We've got some of the greatest medical minds in the quadrant on-board this vessel, Jimin. We're going to figure out what's wrong with Lieutenant Kim and we're going to fix it, alright? Please don't cry."

The lieutenant sniffled, cuddling a little closer into Yoongi's shoulder. "I k-knew something w-was wrong," he whined. "He's b-been so weird lately. He was l-looking so t-tired and so s-sad but he was w-with that g-girl so I j-just thought I m-must be imagining it. And h-he never wanted to s-see me anymore so I was a-annoyed with h-him so I j-just let it go. I j-just thought h-he was gonna c-come crawling b-back when he got bored and th-then I c-could make fun of h-him like we usually d-do." Jimin hiccuped. "Y-Yoongi it's a-all my f-fault!"

"It's not, Jimin, okay?" When the lieutenant said nothing, Yoongi pulled the young-officer to face him. "It's not your fault."

"But I k-knew something was w-wrong and I j-just ignored i-it."

Yoongi wiped at Jimin's tears with the back of his hand. "You're Lieutenant Kim's best friend but you're not his mother, alright? It's not  your responsibility to watch his every move, Jimin. There was no indication that anything was _physically_ wrong with him, at all."

"He l-looks strong b-but really h-he's so _fragile_. So many b-bad things h-have happened to him, Yoongi, h-he n-needs s-so much love."

"He _has_ so much love, petal. He has his brother, and Namjoon has always _adored_ him, and he has you, of course. He knows how much you love him."

"I d-don't k-know what's w-wrong with him!"

"Have you been to see him?" Yoongi asked.

Jimin shook his head. "I'm n-not allowed. Medical and Executive Staff o-only."

Yoongi ran his fingers through the front of Jimin's hair, and the lieutenant shut his eyes. "Okay," the commander breathed. He wasn't fucking XO for nothing. "I'm going to take you to see him, and then we can go to my quarters and have some dinner and I'll stay with you, i-if you want?"

Jimin's eyes snapped open. "B-But you're on duty now, Yoongi, y-you should go back to the bridge."

"No, I'm taking you to sick-bay to see your friend."

"B-But what if you get yelled at?"

Yoongi laughs, carding his hand right through Jimin's honey-colored hair. "I'm this ship's First Officer, petal, and I've got about five years worth of holiday-hours stashed away that I've never touched, so I'd like to see someone _try it_. I'm not leaving you, alright? Not u-unless you want me to."

Jimin was silent for a moment and Yoongi's heart thumped as he waited for the officer to answer. "I - I don't. I want you to stay with me."

Yoongi sighed, his forehead coming to rest against the lieutenant's.

 _This is the start of something, isn't it?_ He thought to himself.

"Then I'm not going anywhere. Resume turbolift. Take us to sick-bay."

* * *

"I'm --"

Shocked. Namjoon was shocked. But he was too shocked to say that he was shocked so Seokjin filled in where he left off.

"You're shocked," the doctor offered.

"Completely," Namjoon breathed.

"So was I - in fact, I'm still not entirely, one-hundred-percent sure that I'm even _right_ about this. But it would explain everything, wouldn't it?"

"Would it?" Namjoon asks.

Seokjin runs his hand across his face. "Well, Taehyung and Jungkook meet aboard the ship and the bonding begins - you know how it is, Imzadi, it literally just takes a glance - and then they go down to Risa together like we found in the ship's log. Something happens down there, maybe Taehyung becomes aware of the bond and he flips the fuck out, because, you know how he is - you remember what happened in the Academy, right? So _then_ Taehyung tries to pull away, not just from Jungkook but from _everyone_ , which is the literal worst thing he can do, Gods he's a fucking idiot sometimes. And then - and then I don't know how, but everything's hunky-dory for two months --"

"I wouldn't say 'hunky-dory'," Namjoon grimaced. "Junkook's been such a piece of shit lately - refusing to work with anyone but Yoongi. He dropped out the dance team, he's been talking back to his superior officers, almost started a fucking riot in the dining-hall the other week by dropping his lunch all over Lieutenant Wallace, fucking, half the junior-staff told me they thought he did it on _purpose_."

"Lieutenant Wallace?" Seokjin quirked his head.

"Yeah, Amanda Wallace, you know her? She works in, fucking, Stellar Cartography or something."

" _Amanda Wallace?_ Holy fuck, Namjoon, that's the girl Taehyung's been seeing recently! Every time he's blown me off over the past two months and I've had to track him down using the internal sensors the fucking computer says ' **Lieutenant Kim is on Deck Eleven** ', and then I ask it where and it's like ' **Junior Officer's Quarters, Room Three-Fifteen, Eleven-Forward** ' and then I had to use my fucking security clearance to figure out who they fucking belonged to, and lo and behold the computer says -- "

"Lemme guess: Lieutenant Wallace?"

"Lieutenant fucking Wallace," Jin confirms.

Namjoon scratches at his temple. "Well that doesn't prove anything except that Taehyung's been seeing this chick and Ensign Jeon was jealous. It doesn't mean they're _bonded_ , Jin."

"But Imzadi, you weren't _there_ , you don't know how he _felt_." Jin remembered his brief meeting with the crew-member two-days prior; he remember how sick and how angry, how wounded, Jungkook had felt when he'd looked into Seokjin's eyes and seen Taehyung's, instead. And Jin remembered, for himself, the one and only time he'd also felt that way.

He didn't want to tell Namjoon, didn't want to remember that darkness, but he had to. "I've felt that way myself, Imzadi. Just once when y-you left me. I wasn't sure how I was going to survive: I was so sick and so heart-broken and so angry with myself, and with you and --"

"Shit, Jin," Namjoon's eyes fell wide with realization. "I could've killed you back then. If you're right and this thing between Jungkook and Taehyung is the same as what you went through, then you could have fucking _died_ when I left, Jin. J-Jesus Christ I c-could've f-fucking k-killed you, I-Imzadi. H-How a-are you e-even a-alive right n-now?"

Seokjin could see tears brimming at the edge of Namjoon's lower lashes and it was so heart-breaking and so unnecessary that the most the doctor could do to help with the pain was lean across and peck at Namjoon's lips. "Do you remember when you called to me on Risa, Imzadi? You called out to me telepathically and you told me you loved me, and that you were sorry: that you only lasted six-days without me before you realized you'd made the biggest mistake of your life, and that you wanted to come back to me. Do you remember saying that?"

Namjoon gave a stuttery nod. "Y-yes, I - it w-was true, I - I remember b-being so excited to t-try out the holodeck o-on the Enterprise b - but I got three m-minutes into the program before I r-realized I w-was without you, and th-then I couldn't b-breathe anymore."

Seokjin bobbed his head. "Yes, yes that's what you told me, Imzadi. That you wanted to come back to me after six-days, right? But you were too scared - you never came back, but you wanted to, didn't you?" He kissed the edge of Namjoon's mouth

"Y-yes I - I almost did s-so many times, b-but I didn't think you'd take me b-back."

"Do you know how long I was sick for?" Seokjin tugged on Namjoon's chin when the captain shook his head in confusion. When their eyes locked Seokjin pressed his lips against his Imzadi's mouth. "I was sick for six days. Six whole days and then it was like it never even happened. I missed you terribly, so much that sometimes I could barely breathe, but after those six days I wasn't soul-sick anymore. It never happened again."

Namjoon watched Seokjin in shock. "T-that's impossible. I was in another _quadrant_."

" _What ties us is more powerful than time or space, Imzadi."_ Seokjin whispered against Namjoon's mind.

The captain's eyes fluttered closed. _"I've missed you so much,"_ he thought to himself.

_"I've missed you too."_

They took a moment for themselves, and kissed slowly.

"If you're right Jin, and Taehyung and Jungkook are stuck in the middle of some incomplete soul-bond, why aren't we just telling Jungkook? Why don't we just tell him what the fucks up and get him to, I don't fucking know, snow-white Taehyung back into consciousness?"

The doctor gave a frustrated sigh. "I was bound by Betazoid law, but I am also bound by my oath as a Federation Doctor. Jungkook and Taehyung aren't related. They're not dating, they're not family, at least by Federation standards, there's nothing in here, no loop-hole that allows me to inform Jungkook of the situation. Besides, babe, the kid doesn't trust me. He _hates_ me, right now. More than he hates anyone else on this whole ship. Even if I threw my medical oath to the wind and told the kid, he probably wouldn't even believe me."

"Well what if I told him?" Namjoon asked. "I'm a human - I'm soul bonded - we've actually got a lot in common. Besides as captain of the ship _I_ have taken an oath to keep my crew safe. That means Taehyung; that means Jungkook. Fuck, Jin, do we know what'll happen to the kid if Taehyung dies? He's as much my responsibility as your, um, I mean, _our_ brother. We have to inform him of the consequences if he an Taehyung remain split like this."

Seokjin swallowed. There was another reason, actually, why he hadn't told Jungkook.

"What if I'm wrong?" The doctor asked. "What if I'm completely off about this and they're not bonded and this is just a repeat of what happened at the Academy? We - we can't allow that again, Namjoon. Taehyung barely came out of that with his accreditation and his freedom and his fucking _sanity_ in tact."

The captain shook his head. "I don't think it is, Jin. Why would he go to so much trouble to stay away from Jungkook if he was doing it again? That's not how it happened last time. Besides, you were in Jungkook's head. Did he feel altered to you?"

Seokjin pursed his lips. "There was something, yes," he said, watching as Namjoon's whole face fall. "But it was different - it was so much different than the last time."

The captain squared his shoulders. "Well, I think we tell Jungkook. We tell him about Taehyung and we tell him about soul-bonding and we tell him what happened at the Academy and then we let him make a decision for himself."

The doctor rubbed at his eyes. God he was tired.

"Even if we tell him, Imzadi... if he's been _altered,_ then he wont be able to make a decision for himself. If Taehyung's _possessed_ him somehow, then all he'll know is his obsession, and he'll kill himself for Taehyung's love, if he feels like that's the only way."

* * *

 

Jungkook was in sick-bay again and to be honest he was fucking tired of this place.

Peg it as his least favorite place on the whole damn ship, actually. Just the smell made him want to revisit the dinner he'd just eaten.

The fact that he was sitting across from the captain this time - however strange it was; however pleased he'd felt at the fact that the doctor had excused himself from the room - didn't make it much better at all.

"Jungkook," the captain scratched at his temple, and crossed his arms over his chest. He wasn't sitting in the seat across the table as the doctor had, but was instead leaning against the desk, his leg almost touching Jungkook's, and to be honest he was just too fucking close for comfort. "Jungkook we really need to have a discussion."

So he'd called the crewman by his first-name twice in a row. The captain only used first names when he was anxious, or nervous - which was practically always - and it made Jungkook feel deeply, deeply unsettled.

"Sir, I'm not sure if the doctor spoke to you already, but I'm really doing _fine_. I'm not sure why you all keep calling me to sick-bay as if I have some kind of medical condition, but I've actually got a lot of work to get through, so I'd appreciate it if you could all just st --"

"Tell me about your relationship with Kim Taehyung."

_Oof._

There was that familiar knife in the chest. Couldn't the captain have given Jungkook some warning so he could prepare himself? He'd said his name so fast that the crewman didn't even have time the brandish that furious shield he loved so much. When the captain said his name - that name Jungkook hadn't even allowed himself to _think,_ over the past two months - he really did feel the sutures around those internal wounds pop open again.

He felt like he was bleeding out, inside.

Maybe he could just die this time.

"Shit, Jungkook, are you okay? Y-You look like I've just punched you in the sternum. Do you need me to get Doctor Kim?"

Jungkook pushed his palm against his chest. "No," he gasped. "No I just - I just need everyone to leave me the _fuck_ alone for a second!"

Was it okay to yell at his superior officer? Absolutely not.

Was it okay to _swear_ at his superior officer? Hell no.

Two months ago, if Jungkook had so much as forgotten to tack a 'sir' onto the end of his sentence, he felt like he should be court-martialed.

What the fuck was wrong with him these days? Why was he acting like this?

The captain wasn't upset with him though. Nah, he just put a hand against Jungkook's shoulder in a reassuring kind-of gesture and patted awkwardly at the ensign's hunched over form.

"Jungkook, it's alright," his superior officer cooed. "But we need to talk about him. That's why you're here, kid. We have to have a conversation about Taehy --"

"Please don't say his name again," Jungkook gasped. He was barley hanging on by a thread and if the captain said his name one more time he worried he was really going to unravel.

The captain went quiet for a moment. "Okay, I won't say his name. We need to talk about this, though. I need to explain to you what's happening."

But Jungkook already knows what happening. How much clearer could it be? He'd let a beautiful, perfect siren to close to his mind and, as sirens do, the creature had sucked out his soul and left him for dead. What more was there to know?

"How much do you know about Betazoids?" The captain asked him.

Jungkook was still reeling, but he barely managed a curt answer. "They're telepathic, sir."

"Okay," Namjoon said with a measured tone. "How much do you know about Betazoid _mating?"_

Well that took a real fucking turn. Was the captain going to give him the sex talk? It was too fucking late for that. If anything, Jungkook needed someone so sit him down and lecture him on keeping his fucking _emotions_ in check.

" _He_ and I never slept together, captain. I don't know what this is about b-but we never were, um, t-together like that." Not outside of his dreams, at least.

"I'm asking because, um, shit - how do I even start this?"

"Start what, sir?"

The captain scratched at the back of his head, and Jungkook felt panic ebb somewhere in the corner of his mind, just out of reach.

"Okay, change of plans, let's, um, get up and follow me."

The captain pushed up from the desk and motioned for Jungkook to follow. The crewman didn't want to follow him; he wasn't sure how, but for some reason, as the captain walked toward the door the doctor had slipped out of, he knew there must be something on the other end that he didn't want to see. Yeah, he had no clue how that information came to him, but deep down in his bones he _knew_.

The captain stopped in front of the door. "Um, you should probably like, I dunno, take some deep breaths or something."

"Why, sir?" Jungkook asked, but he took a deep breath anyway.

"I'm not sure... I think you should just prepare yourself."

Prepare himself? For fucking what? There's nothing in the world that could hurt him, wound him, fucking tear his soul out and stamp it into the ground and make him rot from the inside out more than realizing that _he_ didn't love him. There was nothing else. There was nothing else in the universe that could ever fuck Jungkook any more than that right there. If the captain had known that, then maybe he'd woul've been less fucking cautious.

"What are we doing, seriously, sir?"

But then the Captain pressed against the access pad and the door slid open and the pair stepped inside, and the captain moved out of his way and Jungkook promptly ate his goddamn words.

Hell, he ate his words, and he tasted that dinner he'd had an hour ago and he promptly fell to his knees.

In front of him was Taehyung - his Taehyung, his beautiful, beautiful Taehyung - lying on a bio-bed, sensors connected to his gorgeous, still face, and his skin was so pale and his breathing wasn't his own and he looked so, so _small_ , that Jungkook wanted to gather him inside his arms and just hold him, just give him all the energy he had left inside (which wasn't much, honestly) and revive him, in any way possible.

Taehyung didn't need to love him back - Taehyung just needed to be _alive_. Jungkook just needed to help him breathe again and then he could leave him alone and he could live the rest of his life in the knowledge that the man that he loved was okay, and happy, and protected. Even if Jungkook had to do it from afar.

"Yes," Jin said. "Yes that's a soul-bond!"

"Are you sure?" The captain's arm was wrapped around Jungkook's hunched shoulders, and the boy could barely feel him.

"Yes, I'm certain it is! He just wants to help Taehyung! He just wants to look after him!"

"O-Of course I w-want to look after h-him," Jungkook was sobbing. It'd been weeks, they'd caught him off guard. Taehyung was there, in front of him, lying so still, so he couldn't be blamed from breaking down, could he? "I l-l-love him," more words wept. God, there was no coming back from this. It'd taken weeks for Jungkook to lock his feelings behind a wall of anger and these two assholes had wrecked all his hard work in twenty-whole-seconds.

Jungkook pushed himself from the ground with a heavy assist from the captain and stumbled over to Taehyung's frozen form. His skin was so pale that it was practically translucent, and the hair that was usually so shiny and raven looked more like ash covered straw. Jungkook lifted his finger's to Taehyung's face and tentatively ran his thumb across the older-mans cheek.

Had his skin always been this cold? No, usually it was warm underneath Jungkook's touch. Warm and golden and zinging with life as Taehyung smiled at him, eyes squinty from laughter and sunlight. He brushed the officer's hair away from his eyes and ran a finger softly across his long, thick lashes. He wanted Taehyung's eyes to flutter open. He wanted that more than anything he'd wanted in his life. Even if, when he looked up at him, his face was filled with repulsion - he wanted the empath to look up at him, just so Jungkook knew he was going to be okay.

"W-What's wrong with him," Jungkook whispered. "W-Why won't he wake up for me?"

"Namjoon?" The doctor said.

"We don't know, kid. The doctor found him in turbo-lift three two days ago. He was on the ground, already unconscious... nobody knows what happened."

Jungkook choked, his head tipping over, pressing into Taehyung's shoulder. "I s-saw him t-two d-days ago," he cried. "I-In the t-turbolift. W-We hadn't s-seen eachother s-since R-Risa and I t-told him to st-stay away from me. I t-told him we w-weren't friends!"

"Shit," Jin breathed. "That'll do it."

"D-Do w-what?" Jungkook picked up his head with great effort and looked between the doctor and the captain. "W-What's happening? W-What's wrong with my --"

Boyfriend? Nope, they weren't dating. Lover? Not that either, they weren't sleeping together. Friend? Jungkook had killed that idea.

And yet, Taehyung still felt so close to him. Still felt so integral to the make-up of Jeon Jungkook that surely there was a _name_.

"Imzadi," Jin breathed. "That's the word your looking for."

 _Imzadi_.

Jungkook had heard that word before. He'd heard it two days ago as he stalked away from the turbo-lift. It had ricocheted through Jungkook's head clear enough, but it'd been Taehyung's voice so the crewmen just wrote it off as another painful hallucination.

_Why do you feel so sad, Imzadi?_

That's what he'd heard. That's what he'd heard but he'd had no idea what it meant.

"Listen, kid," Namjoon leveled with the crewman on the opposite side of the bio-bed. "The reason I asked you about Betazoid mating is because the doctor and I think that you're, ugh, _mating,_ in a sense, with Taehyung right now. Betazoid telepathy allows for a really special kind of bonding - they call it soul-bonding - where two people become linked telepathically. Except, it's really a lot fucking deeper than that and I can't explain the science of it but, it's really fucking real, okay, and I think it's happening to you and Taehyung."

Jungkook couldn't speak. Couldn't even think really. The captain was just saying a lot of words that he couldn't understand, and Taehyung was lying still beneath his hands and it _hurt_. It hurt so much.

The captain continued anyway, despite Jungkook's pain. "Most Federation-Standard dictionaries translate the word _'_ _imzadi'_ to, like, beloved, or some shit. It's not entirely accurate. You could be in love with someone, really in love, and they still wouldn't be your imzadi. It's one of those stupid words that xenolinguists like me hate because you can't really translate it, at all. But Imzadi means 'the first', sort-of. Kind-of. Fucking not at all, realistically, but an imzadi is the first and only person with whom a betazoid forms a physical, emotional, and psychic connection, okay? I don't know much about the soul, and I don't know how to define it with science, or with fucking _words_ even... All I can tell you is that Doctor Kim is my Imzadi and I am his and our souls are _bonded_ , forever. And we think Taehyung might be yours."

At that, Jungkook looked up.

"Soulmates?" He whispered.

"Fucking Namjoon why didn't you just say that straight away?!" Seokjin threw his hands into the air.

"Shit, sorry, alright! I was just trying to give him a thorough explanation!"

"Well you didn't succeed you asshole, all you did was confuse him!"

The captain and the doctor were arguing but Jungkook wasn't listening. He was just gazing down at Taehyung, taking in all of his features, not really completely comprehending a word either had said, was saying, but still _knowing_ deep down inside, somehow, that they were right.

"I'm not confused," Jungkook whispered, bringing the room to silence. "I'm not confused. I - I don't know what you said or how you knew all that but from the minute I set eyes on --" _come on Jungkook, say his name,_ "on _Taehyung_ I knew that I was never going to love anyone else ever. Not in my whole entire life. Shit," Jungkook started to cry, "I haven't even admitted that t-to myself and here I am t-telling the captain and his fucking _b-brother_ , while h-he's lying h-here like this."

"What happened on Risa, Jungkook?"

The crewman wiped his nose against his sleeve. "W-we spent the day together, i-it was a really nice day. I was a b-bit drunk and I th-think _Taehyung_ was too b-because he was l-letting me touch him and s-stuff when he u-usually d-doesn't. At night a-after the sun set he d-did this thing for me, I - I don't even k-know what it w-was but he - he sort of w-went into my m-mind I guess and --"

"Fuck," Jin looked to the floor. "Fuck and you've loved him ever since that moment, right?"

Jungkook frowned. "N-No, I m-mean I kissed h-him and h-he a-asked me why, a-and he seemed r-really u-upset, h-he kept a-asking me w-why I k-kissed h-him."

"Why did you?" The captain perked up. "Why did you kiss him?"

"B-Because he took all my anxiety away and I've been in l-love with him s-since I was a c-cadet."

Now it was Jin's turn to look up from the floor. "Come again?" He sounded so like the captain when he said that. So like his soulmate.

"You were friends at the Academy?" The captain asked.

"N-No," Jungkook laughed humorlessly, just out of awkwardness. "He didn't kn-know I existed. I just saw him give a speech on the Academy Flight Squad a-and I remember I was all the w-way up the back but I j-just wanted to know w-who he was so badly. J-Just felt this _pull_ towards him. B-By the t-time I made Alpha Squadron he h-had already graduated, though. It - it was the worst day of my l-life, at that stage. W-When I realized he was already gone." Jungkook couldn't stop himself. It felt good to say all of this out-loud. "I watched all his flight t-tapes. Every single one. J-Just fell in love with his v-voice, y'know?" He smiled sadly. "Sh-should've just stuck with th-that. He'd b-be b-better off if we never met, I th-think."

He was combing through Taehyung's hair with the tips of his fingers. Didn't know if it was meant to comfort the empath or himself, but even though he could see the doctor and Namjoon watching him, he couldn't stop. His love for Taehyung was just kind of leaking out of him, and there was nothing he could do.

"J-Joonie, I think I'm g-going to cry."

The doctor was crossing the room, circling Taehyung's bio-bed with such fierce resolve that Jungkook was kind of worried the Betazoid was going to snatch his hand away from his brother's face. Instead, when he reached Jungkook's shoulder, he pulled the crewman up from his semi-crouched position at Taehyung's side, and wrapped the younger-man in a furious hug.

"Thank you," Seokjin said. "Thank you for loving my brother this way."

"But I've j-just annoyed him, doctor. H-He doesn't even like me. He pushed me away when I k-kissed him and then he was w-with that other girl. He - he doesn't talk to me and he w-won't look at me and --"

"Jungkook," Seokjin's tone was careful. "There's some stuff that you don't know, about Taehyung. He's - he's a good person but he's made mistakes and he _can_ be dangerous. I think, in his own way, he's been trying to protect you. He didn't know you'd liked him for so long... he's not telepathic like I am so he can only sense how you _feel,_ not why you feel it. After he helped you, on Risa, like you said, he probably thought he'd done something wrong and, um, _altered_ you, somehow."

"Altered me, sir?"

"It's... well it's a really long story and, to be honest, I think Taehyung should be the one to tell you. Never-the-less, the bonding is a mutual affair. It's never just one-sided, that's not how it works. It pulls two people together but in the end they're always left to establish the pairing themselves. Sometimes that pull that you described can be there one minute and gone the next. Human's get it with each-other all the time. But the way that you're feeling now means a Betazoid soul-bonding has begun, for real, and that's never an accident, okay? Taehyung is complicated, he's like a four-dimensional anomaly in space: he's funny and curious and beautiful and deep and frightening and all of those things. He's strong. But he needs love. He needs _your_ love. Don't give up on him just because you think he doesn't like you, okay? I _swear_ to you, whatever it is, it's not that simple."

Jungkook blinked. "I could never give up on him, sir. I've been trying, trust me, I've been fucking trying for two months and just the sound of his _name_ threw me completely off course."

The doctor sighed. "Good, that's um, that's good, kid."

"So what do we do, Jin?" Namjoon asked. "Does Jungkook just kiss him and then he wakes up and we all laugh about this over drinks on Risa next month? Is it that simple?"

Jungkook wished, begged, that it was. By the look on the doctor's face, once again, the universe would leave him wanting.

"I'm afraid that it's not. He's locked in some kind of, psychic feedback loop. I don't understand the readings. There's so very little science surrounding Betazoid soul-mating because it's so rare, and everyone likes to believe that it's... spiritual, rather than something that can be quantitatively studied. In addition to that fact, Taehyung is the only half-betazoid empath in recorded _history_ to have the type of abilities that he has. No wonder you've been feeling so messed up, Jungkook. No wonder Tae's been acting out, as well. We have no idea what the bond is doing: no clue how it's interacting with my brother's specific form of psychic empathy. If he was conscious, I would just have you, fucking, _tell him_ , how you feel. That would probably be enough. The bond is so emotional, after-all, that sometimes this kind of reaction seems almost psychosomatic. But he's fucking comatose, as you can see, so unless one of you knows a way to literally get _inside_ of his mind, then I'm at a complete and utter fucking loss."

"Can't you do that, doctor? Put me inside his mind?"

The Betazoid shook his head. "My telepathy doesn't work that way. I have a... a sort-of ear piece into your thoughts. I can communicate with Namjoon that way because we are bonded, and I can communicate with Taehyung when he's conscious because he's also a Betazoid, but I can't send _you,_ into his mind. That kind of psionic ability isn't something possess. I don't even know what something like that would be _called_ ,"

"It's called a Mind-Meld," a voice sounded behind them and the three turned to see the Triptych's First Officer, with Jimin in toe. "It's called a Vulcan Mind-Meld, and I can do it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P-Petal?


	9. Melding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taekook.
> 
> That's it. 
> 
> That's all of it.
> 
> Mature themes, gore, discussion of depression and anxiety in this one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo, ya favorite gal is back; yeah, das right, it me. 
> 
> I have twitter now: I haven't done anything with it yet but figure y'all should follow me and yell stuff at me from time to time. If you have one-shots or ideas you want me to put into work, current fic or otherwise, that's where you should do it: @mussells1
> 
> I also have a private e-mail account just for fic related shit (that means YOU (but you are not shit)). If you wanna get in touch with me privately: fictionalmussells@gmail.com 
> 
> I am always around. Especially during the week when society tells me it's not appropriate for me to be drunk. 
> 
> Okay, that's all. Enjoy this, I wrote it just for you! 
> 
> Love
> 
> Mussells 
> 
> PS this chapter jumps through perspectives a lot. Hope that's not too jarring. There's just a lot going on.

"I'm not comfortable with this."

"Logically, it's the only option."

"I don't know anything about this Vulcany-Mind-Meldy shit; what if it's dangerous?"

"You also said you knew little about the soul-bond, and yet you seem comfortable enough partaking in it, yourself."

"The soul-bond isn't going to fuck anyone up mentally!"

"Well, I believe the fact that we have an unconscious lieutenant lying in front of us shows your sentiments to be incorrect."

"Captain," "Joonie,"

Two eyes whip across to Namjoon, and the captain holds his hands up in surrender. "Leave me out of this," he says. "I'm neither a doctor nor a Vulcan. The only person whose side I'm on is Taehyung's!"

"Then you will allow the mind meld," "Then we can't go through with this!"

Seokjin and Yoongi turn to glare at each-other.

Well, the doctor glares. The Triptych's first officer just watches the other with a bored sort-of expression.

"I want to do it."

Namjoon's gaze flits across to the crewman. It takes a lot for the captain to not fucking _melt_ at the way Jungkook's body shifts around the unconscious officer in a sort-of protective barrier. Jungkook probably isn't even aware of it. It's a gesture that seems almost habitual. Taehyung is in trouble - in danger - and so his soulmate curls around him like a shield. Ready to take on anything, anyone, who might pose a threat to his love.

"I understand you want to help, Jungkook, but really - we have no clue what this 'mind meld' could do. To you _or_ Taehyung. I love my brother, I really, really love him, but I'm the Chief Medical Officer aboard this ship and your safety matters to me as well. It's just too dangerous. We can't take the risk."

"Shouldn't that be my decision, doctor? I understand you're his brother, and the chief medical officer, and all that, but it's my mind, and Taehyung his my -- whatever he is, actually, and I just -- I need to try to help him. In anyway I can."

"He has a point," Namjoon says, rubbing a hand across his own neck.

Seokjin throws him an exasperated glance.

Jimin perks up. "Look if it helps, Yoon - I mean, _the commander_ and I have been using mind-melds for weeks to, um, work on some stuff. Here I am, though, right in front of you. See? I'm fine. The commander's really good at what he does. I don't think there's anything to worry about."

"Well, that's not entirely accurate, either." Yoongi muses, and then it's the chief security officer's turn to throw an exasperated look in his direction. Yoongi sends back a strange sort of expression that Namjoon can't quite place. "As in all things, there _are_ risks. But, as Jimin said, we've been practicing for weeks. I wouldn't suggest this at all if I didn't think I could do it."

"Another good point," Namjoon breathes. "You've known Yoongi for as long as I have, Jin. If we can trust anyone to properly weigh the options, it's him."

"I also trust the commander," Jungkook chimes in. "I know he'll do whatever he has to to keep us safe. Please, doctor. Let us try to save him."

Seokjin looks across at Namjoon. " _Imzadi, I -- I'm fucking terrified."_

The captain blows a stream of air out of his mouth. _"I know. We all are. But I think we have to try, baby. This could work - Jungkook could save him - and we'll have Taehyung back with us."_

_"And if it doesn't? We could lose him. And Jungkook. And fucking Yoongi, as well. You're best friend, Joonie."_

_"Imzadi I -- I know. But something in my gut tells me this is the right call."_

Jin runs a hand through his wavy locks. _"I dunno why but I think I trust your gut more than I trust my medical tricorder."_

 _"That's a comforting thought,"_  Namjoon grins. 

Seokjin presses his lips into a line. "Okay," he says, out-loud, after a long moment. "How does this work exactly?" 

* * *

"How does this work exactly?" 

"The meld is a telepathic link between two individuals. Put simply, it allows for the intimate exchange of thoughts, however, in essence it may be more accurate to say that participants become 'one-mind'. I have known Vulcan's with more telepathic prowess than myself to be able to transfer entire consciousnesses from one body to another. Obviously that's not what we're doing here today. What I will do is -- perhaps the best way to describe it is to say that I will use the Vulcan technique of mind-melding to bridge Lieutenant Kim and Ensign Jeon so that the former may communicate with the latter's unconscious psyche."

"And the risks?"

Yoongi pursed his lips. "There are a number of potential complications. Perhaps the first, and most directly concerning, is that a sense of individuality between participants can be lost. For example, historically, some report feelings of duality following a particularly intense meld. One's thoughts and feelings pertaining to certain issues can be overwritten by another's. A loss of singular identity, I suppose. This is common when one of the participants mind's is particularly powerful or dynamic."

Seokjin scratched his brow and huffed. "Well that's Taehyung to a T, isn't it. Did you hear that Jungkook? That there's a chance Taehyung's mind may overwrite your own?"

Yoongi shakes his head. "That's... not exactly how it works. It's more of a, kind of, intimate transference," his eyes flit across to Jimin who watches him carefully. "Um, for example, some Vulcan couples will  _choose_ to partake in a mind-meld so that they can -- inhabit each-other's psyches, in a sense." 

"So it's like the bonding anyway, Jin," the captain offers.

The ensign laughs. "I already feel like Taehyung's lodged himself inside my brain so I'm not particularly worried about that, either way."

"Sometimes the after-effects can, however, be more malign in nature. If this occurs then they can be treated using a variety of drugs: Lexorin is the most common, I believe."

"Lexorin?" The doctor frowns. "That's an anti-psychotic. We use Lexorin to treat multiple-personality disorders. Is that what might happen?"

"As I said," Yoongi breathes. "There are risks."

The doctor opens his mouth to say something but ensign Jeon interrupts him. "It's okay, doctor, I haven't heard anything yet that's gonna change my mind. Sorry, commander, continue."

Yoongi nods slowly. "Another complication is a neurological disorder we call 'Pa'nar Syndrome'. It, generally, occurs at the hands of an inexperienced melder. It is a degenerative condition that can be fatal; was a huge issue in the 22nd Century for the Vulcan people. There was no cure at that point in time. Many, many died from the disease."

"And now?" The doctor asks.

"No longer a problem. It's very rare for a recipient to develop Pa'nar Syndrome as we are taught by parents and teachers how to safely carry out a mind-meld as adolescents, nowadays. In any case, if it becomes a problem, the syndrome can be easily rectified by a corrective-meld, usually administered by a more experienced party."

"Okay, that doesn't sound entirely horrifying," the doctor mused. "What's the window for treatment."

"A number of months," Yoongi explained. "Pa'nar is deadly if left untreated but it is also easily diagnosed and slow to develop."

"Alright, okay. Anything else I should know?"

Yoongi deliberates for a moment. "Well, by nature the mind-meld is an intense experience. Both for the melder and the melded. It can be physically debilitating for the initiator, and it  has been known to exacerbate previously diagnosed mental conditions such as depression and anxiety."

"Jungkook," the doctor warned. "Seriously, are you listening to this?"

"I am, doctor. It doesn't matter. Whatever happens to me I'll deal with it later. I just have to save Taehyung. If Taehyung's safe then whatever happens to me -- I'll be fine."

Yoongi watches Seokjin huff. "Jungkook seriously, I don't think you're thinking clearly about this!"

"Maybe I'm not." The crewman says. "But I'm not leaving this room until Taehyung is conscious and talking and breathing on his own. I'm not, alright? So don't try to make me."

"Doctor, if what you described to me earlier is true, then Jungkook and Taehyung are already linked telepathically through Betazed biology. It should be _easy_ to link them, considering half the work's already been done." Yoongi stepped towards the doctor, with a firm expression. "Jungkook said that he trusted me to look after them. I need you to do the same. I _will_ look after them, okay? I've known you for a long time -- Namjoon is my family. You're _his_ family, and Taehyung is _yours._ We're all connected, and there is no _way_ I'll allow anyone to come to harm. Let me do this. Let me help this family."

Wow. Emotional vulnerability. That's a new thing. It's been a long time since Yoongi put his feelings into such concrete words and even though they fall out of his mouth too quickly and in an awkward sort of jumble, there's no denying the truth that stirs behind them.

The doctor closes his eyes and takes a measured breath in before exhaling through his mouth.

"Okay," he says. "If Jungkook is ready and willing then who am I to stop you? I want to save my brother, too. But you have to promise that you'll pull away at the first sign of trouble, alright? If this doesn't work we'll find another way. I just don't want anyone to get hurt."

"You have my word, doctor. My first and only objective is to keep everyone safe."

And it's true. Maybe it's transference from Jimin, maybe it's not, but recently Yoongi's started to feel like his job aboard the ship is more than just sorting through astral phenomena. It's more than just a command position - more than just filling that empty chair when Namjoon is off duty.

Yeah, recently Yoongi's started to feel as though his real job is to make sure that every single life aboard the ship is safe, and happy, and protected.

That's his role as First Officer. That's his role as Min Yoongi.

"So what now?" The doctor asks. "How do we do this?"

Yoongi flicks at the clips holding the neck of his jacket together. "First, we light a candle, and I take a minute to prepare."

* * *

Jimin pushes at the access-pad tentatively, and the door to the doctor's private office slides open. Yoongi's sitting against the wall with his legs folded beneath him; his eyes aren't closed but his expression is far-off. He doesn't react at first, when Jimin steps into the room, so the lieutenant just sits down next to him quietly, not wanting to break him free from whatever meditative state he might be in. 

After a few minutes, Yoongi speaks first.

"Hey," he breathes, turning his head to gaze across at the younger officer.

The lights are very dim so it's hard to make out his features, none-the-less, when his dark eyes flit across and lock with Jimin's, the lieutenant can't help but be... affected. Always so affected by Yoongi: his voice, his scent, his proximity, the way his fingertips feel when they brush Jimin's blonde hair out of his eyes.

"Hey," Jimin whispers in return. "Just wanted to check on you. You sounded so sure of yourself out there, but I know that sometimes when I'm behind the security panel I sound that way too, but in reality, underneath it all, I'm shitting my pants."

Yoongi _smiles_.

He _smiles._

_He smiles **at** Jimin.  
_

"You're always so fierce on the bridge," the commander laughs. "It's intimidating." 

Jimin balks. It's the smile, and the laugh, and the way that _Yoongi_ \- Commander Min Yoongi - just told him he _intimidates_ him.

"You've never been intimidated in your life," the lieutenant breathes, still in shock.

"Not true," Yoongi shakes his head. "I'm intimidated right now, for example. Knowing what I have to go in there and do. Knowing what's at stake if I fail."

Jimin can't help himself. He can't help himself when he reaches across and takes Yoongi's slack hand into his own.

The commander has nice hands. Lovely manly hands, all strong fingers as blue veins. But his skin is incredibly soft and cool and his touch is so light as he interlocks their fingers that it makes Jimin swoon against the floor. Those hands are so different than his own. Jimin's fingers are short and stubby and chubby and a genuine annoyance that don't at all help the overall demeanor of _toughness_ that he wants so desperately to portray.

Never-the-less, he likes how his awkward teeny fingers look wrapped inside Yoongi's own. It's not awkward at all, actually. It has a certain _rightness_ about it that makes Jimin feel sweaty and smug and bashful and... happy, all at the same time.

"I'm not worried at all," Jimin says. "I was so scared when I first heard the what happened that I almost couldn't remember how to breathe. But now I feel this weird calmness. Now that I know you're taking care of it I feel like I should go to Tae's room and change his sheets and replicate a 'welcome-back' banner or something."

Yoongi cracks another smile, a kind of gummy-grin that makes Jimin feel a little woozy.

"I think he'd like that, actually. Probably bring a tear to his eye."

"Yeah, probably," the lieutenant whispers, trying to remember how to _stay calm_ as Yoongi runs his thumb over the back of Jimin's hand. "I guess what I'm trying to say is: I don't doubt for a second you can do this. I know what it's like to meld with you and, um, to be honest I've never felt safer in my life, so, yeah, I guess I just wanted to say that, in, uh, in-case you were nervous."

Yoongi watches the lieutenant for a long moment.

"Jimin I, um, there's something I want to tell you." The commander uses his free hand to scratch against his temple. He coughs awkwardly. "It's just, um, in case it doesn't work out today, or something goes wrong, or, um, I'm not b-brave enough later, I just wanted to tell you that --"

"No!" Jimin yells.

"W-What?" Yoongi looks properly startled.

"No," Jimin says in a more measured tone. "No, um, don't tell me. I don't want you to tell me."

The commander's hand goes slack around his own. "O-Oh, um, o-okay then..."

"No!" Jimin shouts one more time, and the commander actually _jumps_ a little. The lieutenant interlocks their fingers again and _squeezes_ tightly. "N-No it's - it's not what you're thinking, at all. Like, _at all_. I just - I just, um, when you tell me I'd like to have, um, had dinner and maybe a glass of wine or two, and, uh, be _alone_ with you, not sitting on the floor in the doctor's office, is all."

Yoongi's features relax. "O-Oh," he breathes. "O-Oh yeah, um, that - that's a better i-idea, actually."

Jimin grins. "Yeah, and besides, nothing's gonna happen today except for you going out there and killing it, so, there's no reason to rush it, right?"

"Yeah, right," Yoongi says. "No reason at all."

"O-Okay, so, um, let's go out there and you do what you have to do, and I'll be here the whole time and then when it's over you and I c-can have dinner and we can t-talk, yeah?"

"Yeah," Yoongi breathes. And then, more resolutely, "yeah, okay."

"Alright then," Jimin hops up from the ground and pulls the commander with him. Their hands are still interlocked as they move towards the doorway.

Jimin stops, turning towards the Vulcan and makes a kind of rash, kind-of impossible to avoid, decision.

He leans in, and presses his lips against the commanders cool cheek.

Yoongi freezes, his eyes staring blankly at Jimin's face.

The lieutenant smiles. "Just, um, think of it as a complimentary appetizer, I guess. For - for our dinner, you know?"

The commander blushes such a bright shade of red that it would be impossible to miss, even in the low-light.

"Y-yeah, sure," he chokes.

Jimin takes a moment to enjoy his expression, before pulling his hand out of Yoongi's and pressing it against the access-pad.

As the door slides open, and the pair step separately into the room, Jimin's sure he hears the commander utter something under his breath.

Sounded oddly like: " _I'm gonna fucking **kill**_ _this."_

* * *

 

Jungkook is ready.

He's readier than he's ever been; he's more awake now than he's felt in weeks.

Was it possible that just being _near_ Taehyung's body could affect him like this? Even though he's not even really _there_ , is it possible that just his proximity is enough to make Jungkook feel like he's _finally_ slept, even though he hasn't.

Or maybe it's just adrenaline. Maybe it's just the realization that Taehyung - his Taehyung, beautiful, lovely Taehyung - only has one hope, and it's Jungkook. Awkward, bashful, shy, stuttering Jungkook who can't even make eye contact with half of the senior staff. Now he's got someone's life in his hands; a life so precious that it feels like the ensign is holding glass in his arms.

"I'm sorry ensign, but I'm afraid you are going to have to detach yourself from around the lieutenant's body if I'm going to be able to establish the meld."

Would it be accurate to say that Jungkook's first instinct is to stomp his proverbial foot, scream ' _no, I don't wanna!'_ and bury his face in Taehyung's neck like a child? Yeah, it would. He doesn't do that thought. Instead, so gently, he pulls his fingers from Taehyung's hair, and retracts his arm so carefully from underneath his neck that the unconscious-man barely jostles.

 _Glass. He's made of glass._ Is all Jungkook can think to himself as he does this. One wrong moves and he snaps Taehyung in half; one wrong move and he damages the man he loves irreparably and then it won't matter how good at establishing mind-melds Commander Min is. If Taehyung breaks now it wont make a difference, and Jungkook will be even more to blame, and he'll have to live out his life without even the knowledge that Taehyung is out there somewhere, happy, without him.

So he's careful. He's so careful as he extracts himself that it takes longer than it should and he can feel the people around him grow tense with impatience. He can't help it though. He just wants to protect Taehyung. Wants to make sure his body is perfect and undamaged and safe for when his love is ready to take over his own breathing again.

"He's not going to break, Jungkook," the captain muses. "You're not going to hurt him, kid, you're here to save him. Don't look so guilty."

 _Well, it's my fault he's like this,_ Jungkook thinks to himself.

If he'd kept his stupid mouth shut on that turbo-lift maybe Taehyung would still be fine. He'd be off having the time of his life with that other girl, and Jungkook could be comfortable in the knowledge that he was doing okay.

"But he wasn't doing okay," the doctor says in response to his private thoughts. "Not really. So it's not your fault Jungkook. Even if you hadn't said anything to him he would've grown weaker and weaker and we would've ended up right back here, just down the track a little further."

The ensign sighs, carding his fingers through Taehyung's hair one more time, before he steps away completely.

"I need you to lie down, facing upward, like Taehyung," the commander instructs.

Jungkook does as he says, hopping awkwardly onto the bio-bed next to Taehyung. Falling flat onto his back, tucking his hands against his side, Jungkook looks across at the unconscious empath, weary to take his eyes off-of him for even a moment.

"Can we move these beds closer, doctor?"

"Computer, readjust the bio-bed so they're directly side-by-side," the chief medical officer instructs, and Jungkook feels his bed shift slightly, until the edge is flush against Taehyung's own.

He could reach out and touch Taehyung if he wanted to; he could turn onto his side and shift over slightly and throw an arm and a leg over the empath's body, covering it it with his own. That's what he wants to do, after all. Taehyung looks so... exposed. It makes Jungkook feel on-edge to see the raven-haired man look so accessible. Even though he knows this is a closed space, and he trusts the people around him implicitly, he still feels such an overwhelming uneasiness seeing Taehyung without any portion of Jungkook's body there to protect him. If anyone were to reach out and touch the empath, Jungkook wonder's whether he might accidentally reach out and kill them.

"God, Jungkook stop, you're making _me_ feel all agitated. No one's going to hurt him, okay? I'd fucking jump in front of a phaser blast before I let anyone touch that boy, alright? Just focus on yourself for a second, please." The doctor huffs at his side. "That's one hell of a bond you guys have growing. I don't even think I felt that way about _Namjoon_ when we first started."

"What's going on?" The commander asks.

"Um," the doctor breathes. "Nothing, not important."

"Everything's important."

If Jungkook weren't so focused on Taehyung, he'd probably blush.

"It's just that, ah, Jungkook's feeling a little over-protective, right now. It's probably to do with the fact that Taehyung's injured, and the newness of the bond. But he really wants to, I guess, _cover_ Taehyung. He's having some pretty hostile thoughts at the idea of someone else touching him."

"Well, ensign," the commander breathes. "I have to touch him to establish the meld. I'll have to touch you, as well, and I'd really prefer it if you didn't attack me when I do so."

Jungkook swallows. "I - I won't, sir. Sorry. I know none of you are gonna hurt him. It was an irrational thought, I dunno why it came into my head like that."

"The bond," the doctor says. "Works in mysterious ways."

"Yeah," Jungkook says, and he laughs humorlessly. He can see the commander getting situated above him. "What - what's this going to feel lie?"

The Vulcan's eyebrows quirks. "Perhaps Jimin should answer. Jimin?"

Jungkook had almost forgotten the security officer was also in the room. When he spoke, his voice surprised him.

"Wow, um, it's difficult to put into words. I guess, it's like a tickle, and then a nudge, and then a _push,_ and suddenly you're engulfed."

"D-Does it hurt?"

Jimin laughs a little. "No, not at all. It's a strange feeling, but I, uh, I always found it kind of comforting, I guess. Yoongi - shit, I mean, um, the commander - the commander, he always felt so in control."

The Vulcan is silent for a long moment, before he clears his throat awkwardly. "It, uh, it may feel completely different for you. Either way, it shouldn't be painful. I've never met anyone who entered into a willing meld and said they experienced pain."

"Do people do this unwillingly!?" The doctor gasped.

Yoongi sighed sadly. "It has been known to happen. Of course it's completely illegal. On Vulcan it's akin to rape - worse, even. The punishment for such a violation is death."

The captain spoke for the first time in a while. "I thought corporal punishment wasn't a thing on Vulcan. It hasn't been a thing on Earth in, fucking, _centuries_."

"It isn't," the commander says. "We have very little crime on Vulcan. Next to none, actually. It's the only act that garners such a punishment. It is unforgivable."

"Jesus," the captain breathes. "I think I would've been happy to go through the rest of my life without knowing _mind-rape_ is a literal thing."

"It's very uncommon - but there's a dark-side to all things, I suppose. As terrifying as it is." Yoongi falls silent for another moment, and then: "shall we begin, ensign?"

"Y-yeah," Jungkook stutters. "Let's do this."

The ensign turns and takes one last, quick glance at Taehyung before his eyes return to the ceiling.

He feels the commanders fingers press against his face - it's not painful, but it is awkward and a little uncomfortable in the fact that, for some reason, it feels so intimate.

"I'm going to start now," the Vulcan says in a low voice.

"Okay," Jungkook whispers in return.

"His mind to your mind,"

Jungkook doesn't feel anything.

"His thoughts, to your thoughts,"

Not an iota of anything.

"Your minds are melding,"

There's no tickle, no nudge, certainly no push.

"Your minds are becoming one,"

But he's engulfed either way.

He doesn't even feel it when a phaser blast tears through hull.

* * *

"Shields up, Red Alert!" 

Commander Jung pushes himself from the ground and flinches as a wave of sparks shoot free from the panel in front of him.

"What the fuck was that!" He yells, twisting around to the security station. "Lieutenant, report!"

"It was a phaser blast, sir! Came out of nowhere, hit us square in the left nacelle!"

"What the fuck, that's my fucking favorite Nacelle! Who shot at us?!"

"I'm - I'm not sure, sir! External sensors are down."

"Fuck," the lieutenant whispers. He presses against his communicator. "Commander Jung to the captain - report to the bridge, sir, fucking, please."

There's no response.

"Commander Jung to the captain, please respond."

Still nothing.

"What the fucks up, Lieutenant!?"

There's a moment of silence as another wave of sparks shoots free from the conn. Hoseok shields his eyes.

"It - it looks like internal communications are down, sir."

"How much damage did that fucking shot do!?"

"Well it took out the left nacelle, sir. Decks 3, 4 and 5 have sustained heavy damage. Looks like a - a hull breach on deck six."

"Fuck me absolutely dead. Are emergency shields in place?"

"Yes, sir."

"Casualty report," Hoseok asks but he doesn't want to. Really doesn't fucking want to know.

"W-without internal communications, sir, I can't - I can't say." 

"Fuck!"

Hoseok runs an hand through his hair and internally has a really, really quick mental breakdown. It only lasts for half-a-second, though, because soon enough the ship rumbles, jerking to one side, knocking the man off his feet once again.

"Shit, fuck!"

"Another blast, sir!"

"Shields?"

"Holding at ninety-two-percent, sir. We should be fine as long as the shields don't buckle."

"Well we have no fucking clue if the _will_ hold until we can figure out what-the-fuck is firing at us! Can you get me external sensors!?"

"I - I'm a weapons tech, sir."

Hoseok rolls his eyes. Fucking Starfleet makes just fucking anyone a lieutenant these days. Back in his day you actually had to work for the role; actually had to crawl through a jeffries tube on your hands and knees; had to know every system back-to-front, no matter what your specialty was.

Wait.

_'Back in his day'?_

What was Hoseok becoming?

He pushes himself from the ground and rounds the bridge to the engineering station. With his hands dancing confidently across the access panel, he quickly assesses the damage and cringes at the ship's internal graphic: it flashes red in so many places that Hoseok can feel his left eye twitch. It's going to take weeks to repair this kind of damage. They'd probably have to dock at the nearest star-base and have recovery crews assist in the repairs. Especially the hull. Across the damaged decks, the hull is trashed. A visit to star-base 871 is definitely in order.

The ship shook as another phaser blast met with the edge of their outer shield.

Fuck, hard to repair a fucking ship if they're fucking _dead_.

"Fuck do we have external communications? Can you fucking hail whatever's out there on all frequencies and tell them to fucking _come back later_!"

"I can't, sir, external communications are also down."

"Fuck. You there Ensign Sato!?"

"Yes, sir!?"

"Fucking fix communications for me and I'll give all of your shifts to Ensign Phillips for the next two months."

"Seriously, sir?"

"Yes! Now fucking, get to work!"

"Yes, sir!"

Hoseok turns. "Lieutenant, seeing as that fucking nacelle is down I think it's safe to assume we don't need stellar-fucking-cartography right now. I've rerouted power from the long-range amplifiers and jury-rigged it through -- fucking, never mind; can you check external sensors for me, they should be up and running."

There's a moment of pause. "Yes, sir, they are, sir! Fantastic work!" The lieutenant turns to beam at Hoseok.

He grins in return, but sobers quickly. "As much as I enjoy the praise, fucking, tell me who's firing at my ship!"

Another moment of silent as the Lieutenant runs her hands across the security panel. "It's a Ferengi vessel, sir. D'Kora class."

Hoseok frowns. "Is that supposed to mean something to me? Fucking, what's their armament?"

"I-It's comparable to our own, sir. The ship has a forward missile launcher, torpedo launcher and some form of directed energy weapon that functions similarly to our phasers. They also have an electromagnetic pulse weapon, sir. I assume that's how they've disabled our internal communications."

Hoseok bares his teeth. "Ah, those ugly mother-fuckers! What are their shields like?"

"They're -- well they're actually kind of shit, sir. Their deflector shielding functions at about thirty-percent capacity of our own, commander."

"So they're can pack a punch but they can't take a hit, is what you're saying?"

"Yes, sir. That's accurate."

"Right, so, what's the state of our weapons? Can we fire on them?"

Another pause. "No, sir, weapons are offline. Looks like they were taken out in the initial blast."

"Of course they were," Hoseok rolls his eyes. "If they keep, fucking, firing at us, how long can our shields hold out?"

The lieutenant's hands race against the security panel. "If they stay consistent, sir. About three hours."

"Okay, fuck. You said you were a weapons tech, right?"

There's a beat, and then: "yes, sir."

Hoseok grins. "Well then. You and I have three hours to get those weapons up and running, and then we're gonna blow those Ferengi out of the fucking sky."

* * *

 

If Jungkook didn't know better, he'd say he was just... back on the ship.

And yet, the more he walks, the further he travels down endless corridors, entering into room after room after room that leads fucking nowhere, it becomes clear to him that maybe he _isn't_ on the ship. Maybe this just _looks_ like the ship. Maybe it's, in fact, the inside of Taehyung's mind. That would make sense, because far off - really far off - in the corner of his memory, he remembers an unconscious Taehyung, and a mind-meld, and the feeling of falling, and darkness, and the knowledge that he has a very, very important job to do.

He's gotta find Taehyung. He's got to find the man he loves inside this maze of endless doors and corridors, and figure our a way to bring the raven-haired empath back from whatever it is he's lost himself inside. He's got so many things to tell him, after all. So many thoughts suppressed inside his  _own_ mind that are searing at the tip of his tongue. He's almost half tempted to just yell them out into the hallway. He is in Taehyung's head, after all. So maybe he'd hear him in all corners, and Jungkook could wrap this up quickly, and get his love back, and finally feel  _okay_ again. 

But no - can't be that easy, of course.

Doesn't matter how many times he calls out, if Taehyung's not listening.

So he walks and he walks, peering around corners, through entry-ways, up jeffries-tubes. He tries to memorize the layout, tries to retrace his steps, but realizes quickly that it's to no avail. The ship, of course, as if his task needs to be anymore difficult, seems to be transforming around him. There seems to be no method to the madness that is this strange reality he's found himself inside.

This is worse than Kafka, if he's honest with himself. Ancient Earth Literature had been his most hated class at the academy, and he'd especially detested reading Kafka. They were stories that went in all direction and had no discernible beginning, middle, or end. Sometimes they didn't even finish at all; sometimes the main character (if they really _were_ the main character) just shouted out some strange, inexplicable phrase into the air before being promptly executed with no reason or explanation.

Jungkook hopes he's not going to get executed. What would even happen if he got executed inside Taehyung's mind? Would his body die, out there in the real world? Would his consciousness just simply  blip out of reality, leaving a breathing, but otherwise empty human form lying slack against the bio-bed inside the Triptych's medical-bay. It was impossible to know. Anything could happen.

 _This is kind of like space-travel_ , Jungkook thinks to himself. _The mind is a void that moves inexorably inward and I'm the craft floating aimlessly through it, looking for_ something _but having no idea what I'll find._

It's a strange sort of sensation. Jungkook knows that his body isn't really a _body_ and yet he can feel himself: he has hands, and feet to walk on; he has a nose that he can reach up and touch; he even feels like he's breathing in air. He'd had no idea what to expect when Commander Min had melded his mind to Taehyung's and yet, this really wasn't it. This was like walking through a dream. Except he was conscious and he knew he was inside it, though, when he tried to wake himself, as he sometimes did at night, he couldn't pull away.

So, in a sense, this was more visceral than a dream, but also more enigmatic, and uncertain.

To be honest, he loses track of time. He'd like to say he loses track of it relatively quickly but in all honesty quickness is directly linked to how much time has past and realistically he doesn't know. One minute he thinks his legs have grown tired of walking, and the next he's in a completely different area of the ship that was neither here nor there and neither is he but he _is._

 _Someone could lose their mind in here_ , he thinks to himself. And perhaps they already had. Is that what happened to Taehyung? Had he lost his mind? Or was he simply lost _inside_ his mind. If the former, Jungkook worried he couldn't ever save him; if the latter, well, he also worried the same because this strange rendition of the ship through which Jungkook was traversing really seemed to never end. Worse, it seemed to never _start_ either - so there was that, as well.

He thought about making a plan.

Scrapped that idea.

How was a plan gonna help him in a place like this?

"Hey!" Jungkook whips around. "Hey! You! What the fuck are you doing in here?"

The ensign balks. It's the doctor. Except he's taller, and he's not wearing that hideous blue lab-coat that he's always got on. He's more handsome, as well, in an eerie sort of way. He's also much, much taller than Jungkook remembers, which is kind of unfortunate considering the way that he's racing towards him with such a terrifying look on his face; Jungkook actually feels the hairs on the back of his neck stand up on end.

"D-Doctor?"

"What the fuck are you doing in here!?" The doctor grabs Jungkook by the collar and shakes him. "What the fuck are you doing? You don't belong in here! How dare you? Who do you think you are?!"

He pushes Jungkook with such force that the ensign goes flying, landing uncomfortably on his back a couple of feet away.

"GET OUT OF HERE!" The doctor screams. "I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU. GET OUT OF HERE. YOU DON'T BELONG HERE!"

"D-Doctor i-it's m-me!"

"I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU IF YOU TOUCH HIM. GET OUT OF HERE! GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!"

The doctor's moving towards Jungkook again, and the ensign can feel himself scrambling backward, trying to push onto his feet so he can at least _run_. Because, what else is he gonna do, realistically? The doctor is fucking _huge_ and his face is so contorted with fury that Jungkook's sure if he lets the apparition get his hands on him again he's dead for sure. He manages to stand, and the doctor is so close that Jungkook can feel his super-hands swipe at the back of his uniform. As he races in the opposite direction he can hear the ghost-doctor's massive foot-falls smash against the ground as he makes chase.

Jungkook is fast, but fuck, the doctor, or whatever he is, is faster. Jungkook can hear him gaining on him no matter how his legs strain and push and drive him further and further forward. His heart is in his ears and spots are appearing in his vision and he's still running, and the doctor is _still_ gaining on him. There's not even an option of turning around to face him head on because this isn't the real-world, Jungkook knows that, even despite size, towering over the top of him like that, this form is probably _strong_ as well. If Jungkook tries to fight him then he'll be dead.

Probably going to die, anyway, because there's a hair of distance between them, and the ensign is practically resigning to his fate.

But then something reaches, seemingly out of nowhere, and pulls him from... wherever he was.

"Jeez that was close!" The figure yells. "You really pissed him off, hey?!"

Suddenly Jungkook's eye-to-eye with a young boy. He can't be more than seven years old and there's something oddly familiar about the way that he's smiling, a strange and homely glint in his eye.

"My name's Kim Taehyung, what's yours?!" He yells, and there it is: that boxy grin that Jungkook knows so well.

Of course he's Taehyung. _Of course he is_.

"I-I'm Jungkook, Jeon Jungkook," he takes the boy's outstretched hand and the miniature-Taehyung shakes it excitedly.

"Nice to meet you Jungkook Jeon Jungkook, I'm Kim Taehyung!"

Jungkook cocks his head. "Yeah, um, you said that already..."

The boy pouts, and Jungkook feels his stomach flip in a weird way. "Oh, did I? Sorry, sometimes, like, my brain is fuzzy so I forget things. Anyway, golly, you almost got snatched there for a second. My hyung was so close to you! Man if he'd got you, you would've been dead for sure. You should thank me for saving you! Ummmm, I know! You should buy me ice-cream!"

The young-Taehyung _beams_ and Jungkook just wants to wrap his arms around him and cry. "Y-Your brother is pretty scary, huh?"

The kid scrunches up his face and makes a 'pfffff' sound, with his lips pressed together. "Who, Jinnie-hyung? Nah, he's a total softy. He just doesn't like it when people come here. Wants to keep me safe, and all that! I can look out for myself, though, ya know!? I got like, nine-year-old muscles, even though I only turned seven yesterday. But, I swear, I got guns like a nine-year-old. Here, feel," he flexes his arm and holds it out for Jungkook.

The ensign can't help himself. He pokes Taehyung's arm and blows out an impressed stream of air. "Wow, you sure those aren't ten-year-old muscles? They're like, harder than rock!"

Miniature-Taehyung _beams_.

Jungkook just stares at him. He's so caught up in this moment: seeing Taehyung like this - young and innocent - without that heavy look in his eye. He might be small, and his nose is way too big for his face, and he hasn't grown into his ginormous smile, either, but he still looks like _Taehyung_. His Taehyung, with shiny raven hair, and pouty lips; one double-lidded eye, one mono-lidded.

There's a crash against the door, and Jungkook jumps.

Mini-Taehyung peers around him. "Oh, that'll be Jinnie-hyung. Yeah, wow, he sounds mad. He won't be happy if he finds you talking to me, you better have a preeeeeetty good explanation about why you're playing here," the kid leans close into Jungkook's ear, "it's kinda _'off-limits'_ you know." He wraps the words in finger quotes, and makes a point to mouth the phrase loudly and clearly.

"Why is it off-limits?" Jungkook asks.

The kid crosses his arms across his chest, "'s dangerous."

Jungkook bites his bottom lip.

"So, what're you doing here, anyway?"

Jungkook scratches the back of his head. "Well, I'm, ah, I'm looking for someone."

"Looking for someone? Looking for who? Is it your friend? Did you lose them while you were playing, or something?"

Jungkook nods. "Yeah, I guess you could say that. Yeah I did lose them. But I really need to find them. I'm worried about them. I'm really worried."

The kid nods his head, mashing his lips together in thought. "Well, maybe, if you tell me what they look like I can help you find them. I know my way around here better than anyone, ya know? I've been here the longest, after all."

And, in a strange way, that makes sense. Of course this tiny-Taehyung would know his way around. He's been a part of him since, practically, the beginning of his memory.

"Well," Jungkook says. "Well to be honest he looks a lot like you. He's just, um, kind of a lot taller. A bit taller than me, even. But he has the same eyes as you - the same smile."

The kid nods in a hugely over-exaggerated motion. "Yes, yes, I know exactly who you're talking about."

Jungkook perks up. "You do?"

"Well of course I do, dummy. You're looking for me!"

The ensign slouches over. "Well, no, I'm looking for --"

"You're looking for me, but like, bigger, right? Taller - suits the nose a little better?"

Jungkook is so relieved that if he wasn't already _actually_ unconscious, he might pass out. "Yes," he says. "Yes that's exactly who I'm looking for!"

The miniature-Taehyung pouts. "Are you sure you wanna see him, though? He's kind of an asshole. Like, gosh, he really needs to pull himself together."

"Sounds like him," Jungkook laughs, and then he flinches, as another crash sounds against the door. "Do you know where he is? Could you take me to him?"

The little-Taehyung seems to deliberate for a moment. He crosses his hands across his chest, and taps his foot against the ground, his mouth curling into a little pout. It takes him so long that Jungkook is almost worried all hope is lost, but eventually, the kid uncrosses his arms and his expression forms into something of resolution.

"I'll take you," he says casually. "Don't tell Jinnie-hyung, but you seem really cool. I don't recognize you but somehow I feel like we're already friends. I trust you for some reason, I dunno, maybe you just have one of those faces Jungkook-hyung."

That's something he never thought he'd hear. Taehyung calling _him_ hyung.

"Well," the boy says, "let's make a move, then. Jinnie-hyung's gonna make quick work of that door and I don't wanna be around to clean up the mess when he guts you. It's not far, anyway."

They walk for... well, Jungkook isn't sure. For a while he wonders whether it might be the blind-leading-the-blind, but little-Taehyung seems to know where he's going. He makes idle conversation some of the way: he asks Jungkook what his favorite flavor of ice-cream is (nutella), he stops to pet a puppy that seems to just materialize into thin air, he balks over the sunset in the distance (thought Jungkook sees no sunset, only corridor, until he turns and there it is, as though it was always there).

Eventually the pair stop in front of a door.

"He's in there," little-Taehyung says with a displeased tone. "Although, don't come complainin' to me about how much of a dick he is. I _tried_ to warn you."

Jungkook looks down at him. "You're not coming?"

The little boy giggles. "I can't go into a club, silly! I know I have _ten-year-old_ muscles, but I'm only seven!"

"Oh," Jungkook presses his ear against the door. He can't hear music, can't feel the bass thumping, but not everything makes sense inside Taehyung's mind, so he decides to take the boy's word for it, anyway. He kneels down, so he's on eye-level. "Thank you for your help Taehyungie. I would've been completely lost without you."

The boy grins. "Yeah and Jinnie-hyung would've gutted you. Be careful in there, by the way. Jinnie-hyung tends to pop up where you least expect him." Then, the kid bounces into Jungkook's arms, and holds him tightly. "Be careful, Imzadi."

The ensign pulls back. "W-What did you just say?"

Taehyung blinks. "I said be careful, silly! Maybe I'll see ya on the playground some other time."

Jungkook squeezes the boy tightly.

"Then again, maybe not."

* * *

 

"What the fuck was that?"

"Felt like we were hit by a phaser-blast, sir. Seems like communications are down; I can't reach the bridge. The emergency bulk-heads are shut as well, fuck. We're stuck here, sir."

"Who _is_ on the bridge?"

"I think Yoongi left Commander Jung in charge, sir."

"Jesus Christ, Joonie, the dancing engineer's flying the ship!"

"It's fine, Hoseok has all the same command training as the rest of us. I'm sure we're in good hands."

"What's he gonna do, 'pah!' us to safety?!"

"We'll be fine, Jin."

"Wouldn't be so sure about that, sir. I love Hobi-hyung to bits, but I've seen him scream in fear at his own reflection, captain."

"Well, you better hope he's holding it together, because he's all we've got.

* * *

 

"How are my fucking guns, Lieutenant!"

"Not good, sir, but I'm working on it."

"FUCK."

* * *

 

It's not the kind of club that Jungkook frequented during his Academy days. In fact, it's the _opposite_ of what Jungkook might consider a good time. There's too many people and there's so much dry-ice in the air that Jungkook can feel his asthma of the past peaking. The fog burns his eyes and he can smell sweaty bodies and sex and his feet stick to the floor because there's so much booze spilt across it.

Frankly, it's disgusting.

Oh, and everyone's topless, too.

"Hey there handsome, can I buy you a drink?"

But that's a familiar voice, Jungkook would it know anywhere, and when he turns around to face it the breath is knocked out of his chest because _this, this Taehyung_ has a face that he recognizes straight away. He's taller than Jungkook, his body is golden and lean and his eyes - one double-lid, one mono-lid - are warm and excited and filled with a smoky expression that is out of place being thrown in Jungkook's direction. His lips are pulled back in a lopsided grin, and he's leaning against the bar and he looks so much like the Taehyung Jungkook knows that the ensign feels physically _sick_ with need to reach out and hold him.

There's only one thing that tips him off - one thing that lets Jungkook know that maybe this Taehyung, as similar as he might be, isn't _his_ Taehyung (at least not yet).

This Taehyung's hair is bright, bright blue.

"What?" The not-quite-Taehyung grins. "Not into guys?" Despite the sentiment, he leans closer.

Jungkook can _smell_ the tequila on his lips. "N-No I - I --"

"Good," the not-quite-Taehyung licks his lips. "Because you're _just_ my type."

Then he's got his arms around Jungkook's waist, and he's pulling him into some sticky, dirty booth in the back of the club; he's running his hands across Jungkook's jaw and giggling at the way the ensign goes frozen at his touch. He's whispering into Jungkook's ear and saying some, frankly, filthy things and Jungkook's caught up between what his body is telling him and what his mind knows.

This isn't _his_ Taehyung. But he looks so much like him, sounds so much like him, _was_ him. Moreover, this derivative of Taehyung _wants_ Jungkook. He's telling him so, he's literally whispering it in his ear. He's telling Jungkook all the things he wants to do to him, what he'd already being doing to him if they were alone; he's telling the ensign how attracted to him he is, how gorgeous he is, asking him what he likes, how he likes to be touched; he's breathing on his neck, kissing his jaw, palming Jungkook underneath the table, practically.

It's a very, very specific type of torture.

"Oh for fucks sake!" The not so Taehyung pulls away from Jungkook's neck, a frustrated look on his face as he pushes his hand into his pocket and pulls out his phone. "What!?" He yells into the reciever.

Jungkook can't hear what the person on the other end of the line is saying, exactly, but they sound _furious_.

The not-quite-Taehyung's eyes dart across to Jungkook's face, scanning him up and down, with an unreadable expression. "Yes," he hums into the receiver. "Well that's not necessary, is it?" Jungkook sees his jaw clench. "No," followed by an eye-roll. "No!" Yelled a bit louder this time. "Hyung if you come here I'm never going to speak to you again." More yelling that Jungkook can hear over the top of the music, even. "Why do you have to spoil everything! Jesus!" Not-quite-Taehyung pulls his the phone to the front of his face, then he yells, "fuck you, hyung!" and promptly hangs up.

"I-Is everything o-okay?" Jungkook asks.

Not-quite-Taehyung turns to him. "You're not supposed to be here, apparently," he muses. "Seokjin-hyung's verrrrrry angry with you."

Shit.

"W-We had a misunderstanding," Jungkook whines.

"Yes, seems that way. So what'd you do to piss him off so bad that he wants to gut you?"

Fuck, what's with the gutting.

"I - I'm looking for s-someone, and, uh, I think your hyung doesn't want me to find them."

Not-quite-Taehyung nods. "Who're you looking for?"

Oh God, not this again.

"Uh, well, he - well he looks a lot like you, but he's a little bit older and his hair's different."

An eye roll. "Seriously, _him_? Honestly, you'd be better off just hanging with me. That guys such a fucking kill-joy. Plus, he's creepy as hell. No idea why you'd wanna, like, fucking, _actively_ seek him out."

"It's kind of, uh, super important that I meet him. C-Could you help me?"

Not-quite-Taehyung clicks his tongue. "Well, look, seeing as you're the hottest thing I've laid eyes on in my whole fucking _life,_ annnnnd you asked so nicely, I'll do you a favor."

Jungkook sighs with relief. "T-Thank you," he says. "Thank you so much."

"You have to do something for me first, though."

The ensign freezes. "O-Oh," he whispers. "U-Uh, what - what's that?"

"Kiss me," not-quite-Taehyung grins. "Kiss me, and I'll take you where you need to go."

* * *

 

"Isn't this taking too long, doctor?"

"We have no way of knowing how long _'long'_ is. We're the blind leading the blind right now. With Yoongi... indisposed, I don't know what's right and what's left with this whole mind-meld business. Jungkook's body temperature is off the charts. I'm having to physically cool him so the fever doesn't damage his brain. I've never seen anything like it. Yoongi's not faring much better either, but he's in no danger yet - Vulcan physiology, y'know?"

"And Taehyung?"

"Nothing. Still nothing."

* * *

"My _phasers,_ lieutenant! Tell me I have phasers!" 

"Not yet, sir, but we're getting close."

"Jesus Christ. I had a girlfriend like you once. Liked to fucking tease me; bring me right to the fucking edge and then she'd say ' _oh, not yet, baby, not until I tell you'._ Fucking torturous, she was."

"I can promise you this, commander, if we were in my quarters, the situation would be _much_ different."

"Oh fuck, stop it. We can't fucking flirt when the ship's about to get blown to kingdom-come."

"Speaking of come, sir --"

"Fucking _stop_."

* * *

 

Jungkook's lips are still burning as he steps into the cafetria. He still feels the ghost of not-so-Taehyung's hot skin, flush against his as he licked into his mouth and _moaned_. The ensign's trying to remind himself that it wasn't real; that the Taehyung that pushed him against the wall, gripped his collar and _begged_ for his mouth, isn't the _real_ Taehyung: isn't _his_ Taehyung. But he's never had Taehyung want him before. He's never had Taehyung look at him with _desire_.

It felt... so _good_.

But it's a memory, now. Now he's in the psychology department of Star Fleet medical and the air is clean and clinical and the alcoholic stench of the club is gone but Jungkook hates this new setting so much that he almost (almost) wants to go back. The light is clear and white and the noises inside are dull and horrible; Jungkook feels like he's inside a padded cell. He'd spent some time with psychiatry trying to deal with his chronic anxiety as a young cadet. It'd been hard and uncomfortable and mildly traumatizing, if a traumatic experience could actually make you better.

After months spent working through his issues with a psychiatrist he'd been able to join Nova-Squadron and actually make some real friends. His grades had improved drastically and he'd started to actually _enjoy_ himself rather than walking around campus with his head shrugged as deeply into a dark-blue hoodie so no one could see him; rather than sitting in the back of class unable to focus on the lecture because he needed to cough so desperately, but the idea of his peers turning around to face him was sort of akin to getting stabbed.

So yeah, Starfleet psychiatry was a double-edged swords.

It was a place of recovery, but also a place of darkness and relived-trauma, and fear.

"Hey," a voice sounds behind him and Jungkook spins around.

It's Taehyung, again, but this time his blue hair has faded to a minty-sort-of-green, and his black roots are showing through and he looks tired and horrible and not at all himself in the hideous, cream-colored hospital-gown.

"Hey," Jungkook swallows.

"What're you in for?" Almost-Taehyung asks, though he doesn't sound particularly interested at all.

"U-Um, a-anxiety," he says, and it's true. "You?"

Almost-Taehyung laughs. "You don't wanna know," he says.

Then suddenly there's another voice, calling out, a yell that splits right down the center of the quiet cafeteria. "Taehyung!"

Almost-Taehyung's head snaps up from his tray of food, and anguish clouds his features, his lips pulling down in the corner, as a sob rips through his whole body.

His eyes go black.

"Taehyung!" The person calls again, and the voice is getting closer so Jungkook turns around to see who it is.

It's a young-man; he looks about the same age as Jungkook, though so does Taehyung, at this stage. The man is tall and he has chocolatey hair and big, round eyes; he's smiling so huge as well, as if he's seen something so precious and beautiful as he rushes towards the table, hands out-stretched.

"Taehyungie! It's my Taehyungie," he's so close now that Jungkook can see the dazed expression and it confuses him. It's like he's not all there, as he looks at Taehyung - it's like his body is, but his mind is somewhere else.

"H-How did you find me, Mitchell?" Taehyung breathes, and Jungkook doesn't miss the way he's backing off, trying to put distance between himself and the dazed brunette. "Y-You shouldn't b-be here."

"But Taehyungie I had to see you! I looked everywhere and I asked everyone where you were and no-one knew! I was so sad without you, but I just kept looking, I knew I would find you because we're soulmates!"

"M-Mitchell you should - shouldn't be here. Y-You're not supp-supposed to be h-here..."

"Taehyungie don't say that, baby! We're meant to be together, Imzadi!"

It's not his finest moment, but Jungkook hears the word - his word - and sees _red_. He stands up from his seat and grabs the brunette's collar, swinging him around, away from Taehyung, to face him. "Who are you?" he says, shaking the man a little. "He obviously doesn't want to see you so why are you all up in his fucking face?!"

Something about the guy's eyes is just, not right. There's something cloudy about them: he looks almost like he's just woken up, or something. Even when his face forms into an furious scowl, his eyes don't shift at all. It's like this guy is a lie: he's a walking, talking, human lie. His body reacts to something, it moves as it should, as if that something were true, but in his eyes, there's nothing. It's just... blank.

"I'm Taehyung's _imzadi_ , you stupid fuck!" He tries to push Jungkook off, but the ensign's grip remains firm. "Taehyungie, baby, who is this stupid mother fucker? Why are you talking to him? Are you friends? How do you even know this guy? Why would you talk to someone that isn't me? Are you cheating on me? Don't you love me anymore?" Where the brunette had seemed so upset with Jungkook, he lets go of him and turns back to almost-Taehyung, leaning across the table, hand snaking towards his. "You still love me, right? Baby? We're soulmates forever, right?"

The inflection is all right, but somehow, Jungkook knows the feelings are _wrong_.

"M-Mitchell you're - you're confused, okay? We're n-not together, o-okay? I d-don't know how you g-got in here but you n-need to leave. I - I d-don't want to h-hurt you any-anymore. S-So p-please g-go, okay?"

Almost-Taehyung is crying and Jungkook wants to throw his whole body across him and protect him from _everything_.

"Taehyungie what are you saying? I think you're confused, Imzadi." The brunette's voice is dead-cold now, and something ugly crosses his features so fast that Jungkook wonders whether it was there in the first place.

"I-I'm n-not y-your I-Imzadi, Mitchell, y-you need to l-leave, o-okay?"

It happens so fast that Jungkook can't stop it. The brunette picks up the knife from Taehyung's plate and stabs it through his own eye.

"Is this what you want, Imzadi?" The man whines, his eye completely destroyed, his face bloody. "You want me to die? You want me to hurt?" He pulls the knife free and stabs it through his cheek, right into the fleshiest part of his face. "Am I disgusting, Imzadi? Is that why you don't love me?"

Taehyung just watches, sobbing wildly, but he doesn't shut his eyes or look away.

There's blood everywhere and the brunette keeps stabbing wherever he can reach. Into his hands and his neck and his chest. Jungkook even tries to stop him, but he shifts so quickly out of the way that the ensigns hands fall on thin air.

"Is it because you're too pretty for me, Taehyungie? Am I too ugly for you? I can make you ugly too, if you want?" How he speaks, how he _moves_ through the pain, Jungkook doesn't have a clue. But in less than a second, he's launching towards almost-Taehyung, knife slashing wildly, blindly through the air. "I'LL MAKE YOU UGLY TOO!"

Jungkook is faster this time as he wraps a hand around almost-Taehyung's forearms and pulls the boy out of the way. The empath's body is frozen so it's difficult work pulling him out of the room, as security wrestles with the psychotic brunette, arms flailing, his whole body flinging towards almost-Taehyung with an unhinged look in his eye. Almost-Taehyung is sobbing, it's wracking through his whole body so violently that Jungkook worries he's going to start gagging soon.

He pulls them just far enough away that there's not more sound. No more screaming of Taehyung's name, no more yelling, no more sounds of restraint. He pulls them just out of reach of all the horror before he takes almost-Taehyung against his chest, wrapping him so tightly in his arms that he hopes the young-man can still breathe in there. If he can't, he doesn't complain; his head buries into the crook of Jungkook's neck and his arms wrap around his body, clawing at the back of Jungkook's jacket, his whole weight sagging so that the ensign has to use considerable strength to hold them both upright.

"Shhhh," Jungkook coos. "Are you hurt, Tae?" He pulls the young-mans face from his shoulder for a brief moment before he realizes that this is all a memory. Even if Taehyung had been hurt that day, there'd be nothing he could do.

Either way, he still feels the need to comfort the apparition.

"Are you alright, Tae?"

Almost-Taehyung sobs. "I - I deserved it. Y-You sh-should've l-let him k-kill me!"

Jungkook frowns. "No, baby, no. How could that be true? How could that ever be true?"

"He-he's like that b-because of m-me, you - you k-know? I d-did th-that to h-him."

The ensign pats against Taehyung's back. "What do you mean, Tae? How could you have done that to him?"

There's more crying. Really, really soul-crushing sobbing that makes Jungkook feel like someone's reached into his chest, grabbed his heart, and promptly destroyed it inside a closed fist.

"H-He d-didn't l-like m-me b-back. I h-had s-such a c-crush o-on him bu-but he di-didn't like me. It w-was an a-accident, I s-swear. I d-didn't m-mean to do i-it, I j-just l-liked him so m-much - w-wanted what J-Jin-hy-hyung had with Na-Namjoon-hyung."

Oh.

_Oh._

"B-but i-it was an a-accident. I-I d-didn't kn-know I c-could e-even do i-it. L-Lost c-control --"

_Oh Jesus Christ._

"I-I'll n-never b-be w-with any-anyone a-again, I-I s-swear, I-I w-won't d-do a-anything l-like this a-again --"

"Taehyung..."

"I-I'll n-never d-do th-this a-again, I p-promise --"

"Taehyung it's -- it's not your fault, okay? Accidents happen. Please don't say that. You don't deserve that."

"H-he n-never re-recovers. H-he n-never re-recovers, no-not c-completely."

"God that's awful, Tae. I'm so sorry. Baby, I'm so sorry."

This had been what the doctor was talking about. He'd said Taehyung was a good person, but he'd made mistakes; he'd frozen like a statue when the ensign told him Taehyung had been inside his mind and only relaxed when Jungkook let him know he'd been in love with brother since his academy days - since before they even properly met each-other. No wonder the doctor had been so cautious. This was why: something so awful had happened - the kind of mistake no-one really ever recovers from, whether it was accidental or otherwise.

Did Taehyung believe he'd done the same to Jungkook? Was he worried that was the only possible future for the pair?

Is that why he always pulls away?

"Y-You should l-leave," almost-Taehyung stutters, wiping his nose against the sleeve of his hospital-gown. "Y-You don't need to b-be here a-anymore. I-I appreciate the s-sentiment but a-as you can s-see it's better if I just d-die so --"

Jungkook pauses, looking down at almost-Taehyung with shock. "Do you know who I am?" He asks.

"N-No," the memory responds. "S-Sort of, m-maybe. I d-don't know. I don't recognize your f-face or know your n-name but I recognize the f-feeling of y-you. C-Couldn't m-mistake th-that kind of l-love anywhere."

"This is all so strange," Jungkook breathes, and he pulls almost-Taehyung into his chest again, almost as if to comfort himself this time. The apparition lets him.

"Y'know you should f-forget about me, right? I-I'm not good f-for you. Y-You s-seem really, r-really  nice and I'll j-just destroy y-you."

"Being without you is what's destroying me, Taehyung. I came here to find you. And I know that you're you, and you're the closest _you_ I've come across, but you're not my _you,_ not yet, at least. And I really need to find you - but I can't do that without... you?"

Jungkook smiles when almost-Taehyung giggles a wet, half-teary laugh into his shoulder.

"You said _'you'_ so many times just now."

"I know," Jungkook rubs his back soothingly. "I'm such an idiot."

"No, you're a-adorable, actually. I-I'm j-jealous of me," almost-Taehyung pulls back to look at the ensign, running the tips of his fingers through Jungkook's bangs. "Y-You're exactly m-my type, r-really..."

Jungkook rolls his eyes. "I've been told that before."

The smile falls from almost-Taehyung's face. "I m-meant what I said, y'know? You should leave me behind; there's no way you get out of this, whatever future-me and you have, with your mind in tact. I m-mean that figuratively and l-literally. You've seen w-what I can do. Y-You should leave now, a-and save yourself. The b-bond is n-not cemented y-yet. _You_ still have a choice, Imzadi."

Jungkook's whole body shivers. "I don't."

"You _do."_

"You just called me imzadi. There is no choice, Taehyung. If there ever was, I've made it. It's you and me from now on. Even if you don't help me, I'm gonna keep searching for you. I'm not leaving here without you, okay?" 

Almost-Taehyung watches Jungkook for a long moment before he leans down and presses a chaste kiss to the ensign's lips.

"Just, w-wanted one for myself, sorry." The memory whispers. "No reason why future-me gets to have all the fun."

"Well you don't have to worry about that; I kissed future you and he pushed me away, so..."

Almost-Taehyung rolls his eyes. "Well future-me is a fucking imbecile."

* * *

"I don't know what's caused it, but Jungkook's temperature is returning to normal. That must be a good sign, right, Imzadi?" 

"I hope so. It's been hours; poor Yoongi-hyung looks like he's on death's door."

"He's not. He's got a dinner to attend, and Yoongi never misses an appointment."

* * *

"Okay, sir, the phasers should be with you in three, two, one --"

"Yes! Fuck _yes_! They're online."

"I told you I'd get them eventually, sir."

"Lieutenant, I think I'm in love with you. Fuck, great, great fucking work. I mean we've only got half an hour to spare but if Ensign Sato can't get communications back online then at least we'll have a means of defending ourselves against these mother-fuckers."

"Aren't you supposed to take me to dinner first, sir, before you confess your undying love for me?"

" -- well would you wanna go to dinner?"

"Seriously, sir, are you asking her out right now?!"

"Shut up, Sato. Don't wanna hear a word from you until communications are back up!"

* * *

This, Jungkook recognizes. 

Which is good in the way that time seems to be equalizing around him.

But bad in the way that it's maybe his own most painful memory.

Things are a little different than the reality. When he'd danced on Risa there had been a crowd of hundreds; there'd been food and champagne and bright lights shining down on his body that obscured everything but the beat. He hadn't been able to see the rest of the room but he'd felt the energy; he'd heard the glasses clinking from backstage, and smiled at the laughter that echoed through the curtains.

This scene was not at all as he'd experienced the night. This room is an empty space. There's no music playing, no lights flashing. There's no champagne and no laughter and the air isn't zinging with celebration.

It's dark actually. Foreboding. Some nameless emotion that scents the air and makes it difficult for Jungkook to breath.

In the distance there's a stage, as well, just as there had been on Risa. But there's only one person, not three. There's only one spotlight shining down on the body that moves so perfectly and so fluidly and with such strength. The figure dances to some far-off song that Jungkook can't really make out, even though he gets closer and closer to the stage.

Once he reaches the edge, he stops for a moment and feels his jaw fall slack.

The figure is obviously him, but different somehow.

Jungkook is just Jungkook - blushy, stuttery, anxious Jungkook - but the figure who looks mostly like him, with his hair and his eyes and his body, shines like Adonis and moves like something he's never seen.

So it's him. But it's not him. Jungkook doesn't look like that. Jungkook doesn't move like that.

"That's how I saw you that night. Couldn't see, couldn't hear, couldn't think past the sight of you. It was mesmerizing."

Jungkook turns and next to him is Taehyung. He's watching the figure on the stage with a sad, sort-of expression, but there's fire behind his eyes: pride and adoration sparking somewhere deep in there as the not-so-Jungkook executes some pretty stellar choreography, glistening with sweat in the spot-light, a tiny frown between his brows and his bottom lip perched between his teeth.

"I don't look like that," Jungkook says, and it comes out as a whisper because this memory looks so like _his_ Taehyung, that he wonders for a moment whether he's finally found him.

But the figure turns to him, then, and his eyes are inky-black.

"That's how I see you," raven-Taehyung muses, before turning quickly away. "That's how you look to my eyes."

Jungkook is so enamored by the apparitions fierce and terrifying beauty that he can't manage a response.

The memory sighs. "I know," he says. "I think it's terrifying as well, but, unfortunately, I'm stuck here, in this moment in time, so there's nothing I can do about it."

The ensign frowns. "I-I don't think it's disgusting," he says. "Y-You surprised me but I don't think it's _disgusting_."

Raven-Taehyung laughs. "You don't have to lie; it's just us here. My brother won't bother us in this place. This place belongs to me. Just to me."

"I'm not lying," Jungkook says. "Why would I lie?"

"Because you're a fool," raven-Taehyung muses. "You think you know me but you don't, Jungkook. You don't know how dangerous I am."

Hearing even the memory of Taehyung say his name almost topples Jungkook. He hadn't expected it, but of course this derivative-memory knows him. At this stage, they'd already met aboard the Triptych. Already well on their way to... whatever it was they were.

"How much do you know about what goes on beyond this space? I mean, in the rest of your mind? Do you guys talk to each-other, or what?"

"No one else is allowed in here. I-It's just me; I don't trust them. W-Won't let them close to you."

Jungkook's eyes flit across to the dancing figure. "That's not me, Tae," he says. "I'm me, standing right here."

"That," raven-Taehyung nods towards the stage, "is as much you as I am me, Jungkook."

"Not true. We're inside _your_ mind, not mine. You've constructed this, perfect _thing_ and you're guarding it with your life but it's not me. You could turn around right now and you could look at me, but you won't. You won't take your eyes off-of _it_ for more than a second."

"It can't see me," raven-Taehyung breathes. "The lights are too bright in it's eyes, so it can't see me. Can't be afraid of me if it can't see me."

"I'm not afraid of you," Jungkook sounds like he's pleading, and he sort-of is.

"Well you should be," the memory says, and turns to face him directly, for the first time. "Look at me!" He snaps. "You're a fucking fool if you look at me and feel anything but fear."

"Well then I guess I'm a fool, then."

The apparition laughs bitterly. "You can say that because you don't know what I've done."

"Well, if you let anyone else into this, fucking, _museum_ , then you'd know that's a fucking lie. This isn't the first time we've met, Tae, and I know a lot of things I didn't know before."

Raven-Taehyung stills.

"Yep, that's right. Know exactly what you did, Taehyung. You're talking about what happened at the Academy, right? With Mitchell? I know all about it. Saw it with my own two eyes, and guess what? I still lo --"

The apparition whips around and takes Jungkook's face between the fingers of his left hand. It's not a loving embrace - maybe it could be, if raven-Taehyung didn't bring himself nose-to-nose with Jungkook, his face twisted with fury, his inky-black eyes burning with so much power and rage that to anyone else it might be blood-curdling.

"You think that Seokjin is the scariest thing in here?" The apparition spits. "I could kill you right fucking now. I could reach into your mind and I could fucking _destroy_ you. It would be _so fucking easy_ , too. I could just reach in there without a second thought and I could tear everything you are down to  _nothing_ and I could _possess_ you, and everything you thought you were would disappear and there would be nothing but _me_. I wanted to do it that night. I saw you dance and I wanted to _have you_. You were _this close_ to death and you didn't even know." His lips are near and his breath is hot despite the icy-cold vein of his voice. "I could do that to you right here _. You would_ ** _beg me_**."

Jungkook just takes a measured breath. "You're trying to scare me. I get it, Tae. You're frightened of what I feel for you because you know that it's _real_ so you're giving it one last shot, right? Pulling out the big guns? You think you'll turn your black-eyes on me and I'll just quiver in my boots and call it a day and head home, yeah? _You're_ the fucking fool, Taehyung. You think this connection goes one way? I can feel you too, you idiot. You won't hurt a hair on my head. You're a fucking puppy-dog when it comes to me. You can huff and puff and put on whatever show you want but you're so fucking transparent to me." Jungkook watches Taehyung's nose flair. "Look at you, God, you're so surprised that you can't even talk."

Jungkook sees an opportunity, so he takes it. He pushes forward and despite the resistance of raven-Taehyung's hand, plants an easy-kiss straight against his cool lips.

"If you wanted to possess me so badly that night you should've just asked me, you fucking moron. You should've stuck your tongue down _my_ throat, instead of Amanda-fucking-Wallace's, and I would've given myself to you _willingly_. That's how it works when you lo --"

"Please don't say it," the apparition begs. "If you say it then everything I've built here crumbles. I won't be able to hold back anymore and you're going to ruin your own fucking life. I'm trying to _protect you_ , Jungkook. I'm trying to fulfill the bond. I know it doesn't feel like it, but that's what I'm doing, alright? I can't allow myself the luxury of falling for you." Raven-Taehyung takes in a long breath. "Because it's already happened and I care about you too much to put you in such danger."

"You're such a fucking idiot. You _are_ dangerous, Taehyung. You are powerful and you are dangerous. But you're not dangerous _to me_ , okay? You and I are connected by this _thing_ and I don't know what it is but I can't believe it just happened for no reason. You're so fucking selfless you can't see past how fucking idiotic you're being. Maybe this isn't about me? Maybe this isn't about what you are or aren't doing to me - whether you are or aren't hurting me. Maybe this is about _you._ Maybe you _need_ me. Did you ever think of that? Maybe you feel so fucking out of control all the time because you're missing that one, specific piece that's going to change _everything_."

"Th-That's not h-how this works."

"How do you know, huh? I spoke to your brother - not the seven-foot tall behemoth that runs around here but your _real_ brother. He said the bond is about protection and mutual strength and caring and l-love. Why would we be bound together if you're such a danger to me, huh? It just doesn't work like that. These laws are absolute, Taehyung. I feel it when I look at you. Don't you feel the same?"

The memory closes his eyes. "I think so."

"Then make a selfish decision for once. Take me to you and let's complete the bond."

"O-Once it's done there's n-no going back, Jungkook." Inky-black eyes graze over him, pleading him to reconsider. "Can't you just leave here? Can't you just let me go and live your life and just be happy, and healthy, and thrive like you're supposed to?"

"No," Jungkook shakes his head. "There are none of those things without you."

The memory grips him tightly, pulling their foreheads together. "I'm going to completely fuck up your life, Jungkook."

"That's okay," the ensign breathes.

"No, I mean it. I'm going to be the hardest part of your life for the rest of your life."

"It's fine."

"You're going to curse me every fucking day."

"That's okay."

"You're literally going to be so sorry you've done this."

"Okay, that's fine."

"Fuck, tell me then. Say the words."

Jungkook presses his lips against the memory, just one more time.

"I love you," he says.

* * *

"Wow, Jin, are they fine? The display just went fucking wild. Is something wrong?" 

"I --"

"Jin?"

"Doctor?"

"Imzadi, are you okay?"

"I - I think we -- I think we're s-seeing it, Joonie. I th-think we're seeing it r-recorded for the f-first time."

"What, Jin? What are we looking at?"

"The bond, Imzadi. It's the bond."

* * *

"Hail them!" 

"Yes, sir!"

"Ferengi vessel: you've attacked a Federation Starship. We're a science vessel you fucking antiquates: _explorers_. You better have a good fucking reason as to why you've fired on this ship - my fucking ship - because it's a fucking _act of war_ , you nimrods, against the Federation. Answer my fucking hail or I'm going to ask my lieutenant, who has worked, painstakingly, for the last three fucking hours, to turn the our _functioning_ weapons systems towards your ship and blow you straight out of the fucking sky and into the next dimension. You might have a fucking forward cannon but your piss-poor 23rd century shielding isn't going to work shit against our photon-torpedoes. You have three fucking minutes. Don't test me. I'll wait for your response. Commander Jung, out."

" -- that was fucking hot, sir."

"Yeah, sir, like. Should we all get dinner?"

"Fuck, yes. I fucking deserve it after this fucking disaster."

* * *

"J-Jungkookie? W-What are you doing here?" 

"Tae," he breathes, rushing forward and enveloping the young-man in his arms. "I'm so glad I've found you." 

"F-Found me? W-Was I lost?"

Jungkook laughs and cries a bit at the same time. "Yes, baby, you were lost. But it's okay now, I've found you. I'm so happy I've found you." He buries his face in the crook of Taehyung's neck and _inhales_.

He even smells the same.

"Y-You are? Y-You're happy to s-see me?"

"Yes of course I am, my love. Of course I am. I haven't been happier to see anyone in my whole fucking life, actually."

Taehyung pulls back and his charcoal irises scan over Jungkook's face with apprehension. "Is this a dream?"

Jungkook laughs. "Sort of, I think? I don't know." Taehyung pouts. "No, but it's real! It's real as well. I'm here with you, and I've found you."

"B-But why? You h-hate me. Y-You told me to stay a-away from you..."

"Shit," Jungkook says, running a hand across Taehyung's face. "Shit, I know I did. But I was just being stupid and possessive and jealous, okay? I didn't mean it. I didn't mean it at all."

"Really?" Taehyung says. "A-Are you sure? You seemed pretty certain when you s-said it."

The ensign laughs, and cuddles Taehyung against his chest. "Yes, I'm sure. I want the exact opposite of what I said, really. I want you to call me Jungkookie and be my friend and touch me and stay around me all the time, okay?"

"W-Why?" Taehyung gapes against his shoulder.

Jungkook laughs. "Because you're my Imzadi and I'm your Imzadi and that's what Imzadis do... apparently, I'm not sure, I'm, um, still getting used to the word. I-I'm saying it right, aren't I? Imzadi.."

"Y-Yeah, you are b-but a-are we really - I mean, um - are we s-soul-b-bonded? F-for r-real? I d-didn't j-just p-possess y-you or anything, d-did I?"

"Nope," Jungkook says. "No you didn't. Trust me, babe, I've been on a long harrowing journey to come to this very stark realization."

Taehyung laughs.

He _laughs_ and Jungkook feels his whole heart soar, and maybe those internal wounds start to suture themselves together as well, free of fury.

"What is it?" Jungkook smiles. "What's funny?"

"It's j-just, well, you're usually s-such a fucking m-mess and here you are calling me ' _babe_ ' and shit and gripping onto me and stuff w-while I s-stutter and blush my way th-through."

"Told you I wasn't as shy as I appear," Jungkook pulls free from Taehyung, throwing a wink in his direction. Then, he squares his shoulders. "I know I really hurt you, Imzadi. When I yelled at you in the turbolift. I probably really scared you, as well. But I didn't mean it, okay? I love you, and I don't want to be without you for another fucking second. So, maybe, if you feel up to it, you could wake up now?"

He watches Taehyung's reaction, and steels himself for his response.

"I - I'm not sure I want to."

Jungkook's heart sinks.

"No, it's - it's not because of you, Imzadi. It's - it's me. I know myself. It's safe in here, with you, in this space. This - this _me_ that you see, it's not, well it's not _me_ as you know me outside. This is the me that I've saved in here for you. The me that was waiting for you - that wanted you to come here and to find me." Taehyung sighs, "but - but once we go out there... every other derivative of my psyche that you've met so far, plus thousands, thousands more: well, they'll all be _me_ at once, and I can promise you that there's more bad than good our there. Once I wake up, it - well it won't be so easy."

Jungkook runs a thumb across Taehyung's smooth cheek. "I've just had this conversation with another you, except he was kind of sassier about the whole deal. Either way, I'll tell you what I told him: I love you. I never want to be parted from you. We belong together whether it's in here or out there, and nothing's going to change that. Not even you, in your infinite power, Kim Taehyung. You can reach into my mind and you can try but you will never break our bond. So come-what-may, we're going out there together, and I'm gonna do whatever I have to do to love you and protect you for the rest of my goddamn life, okay? I'm going to do that for you. You just - just tell me one thing, okay? Just one thing, please."

Taehyung purses his lips. "Okay," he says carefully.

"D-Do you love me? Do you love me, too?"

The older-man takes a measured breath. "I do love you, Jungkookie. _I_ love you. But I'm not sure about - about the _others."_

Jungkook nodds, a small smile playing on the corner of his lips. "I don't care about the others. If you love me, that means a part of the _greater_ you loves me, and that's all I need. I don't care if it's a pinprick in your heart, Tae. That's enough." 

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," Jungkook nods, pressing his forehead against Taehyung's. "You might be this badass, half-betazoid God but you can't fight against this bond. So many of you have tried and it hasn't done shit. Maybe it'll take time, but I'll make you feel safe again, okay? Even if we never get back _here_ to this feeling, right now, I'll make sure you're happy, alright? I'm making that promise to you."

"I - It feels right, Jungkook." He takes the younger-mans hand and presses it against his heart. "It feels _right,_ in here."

"Of course it does," the ensign sighs. "Of course it does, Tae, so just wake up now, alright? We'll sort it out when you're awake."

Taehyung brushes their noses together, and Jungkook smiles against the feeling.

He hopes he remembers this moment, more than anything.

"You sure?" Taehyung asks.

"Yeah, Imzadi. I'm sure."

"Alright," the empath's voice is dreamy, like he's just on the edge of sleep.

Jungkook, also, feels oddly tired.

"Alright, I'll just kiss you and then I'll wake up, m'kay?"

"No worries," Jungkook yawns. "See you in the morning, 'zadi."

Taehyung presses his lips against Jungkooks, and it's slow and soft and lovely and everything they both want.

"Mm, that's nice," another yawn. "You're a good kisser."

"Tha's good." Jungkook presses their lips together one more time, "'s really good."

Then everything fades to black.

* * *

Taehyung opens his eyes and the first thing he sees is _him._

He sees _him_ and he feels _him_ and it's like he's been watching his whole damn life through dirty glasses. 

Suddenly everything is so _clear_.

He's so clear, his Imzadi, as he watches the empath with so much love in his eyes. So much pure love.

Taehyung just stares back in horror.

"Jungkook," he cries. "Jungkook what have you _done_?"

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hahaha fuck I'm so sorry about that ending there. So sorry. 
> 
> Trust me you're gonna be okay. Just breathe.


	10. Mutual Convenience

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no excuse for this chapter other than I'm setting you up for the next one.

It wasn't something that Taehyung wanted but he couldn't deny that it made things easier.

Not thinking, or breathing, or keeping his heart-rate consistent: no, those things went out the window when his brother insisted Jungkook move into his room to, quote-unquote, 'help him heal'.

No, it certainly didn't make those usual day-to-day struggles any better.

What Taehyung couldn't deny, was that having Jungkook around made it easier to _exist_. His imzadi made it feel better to be _alive_.

Just watching him sleep, all curled up on his side, head sinking into the soft pillow, lips slightly parted, made it possible for Taehyung to consider his own future. Just watching the way his imzadi's lashes fluttered against his cheek as he dreamed made the empath feel, for the first time in a long while, that maybe it might be okay to stick around and have an okay life and die of something boring like old-age, rather than heart-break.

Jungkook was having good dreams, too. If Taehyung was in the room he always had good dreams. It's only when the pilot didn't come back to his quarters after a long shift, and spent the night in the observation room watching the stars flash by, instead, because he felt his restraint waning and all he really wanted to do is go _home_ to Jungkook and crawl into the younger-man's bed instead of his own: it's only on those nights, when Taehyung doesn't come back to him, that his imzadi had bad dreams.

Sometimes Jungkook felt so terrified that Taehyung worried he was in actual, physical danger. One night the fear had been enough to bring the pilot back to his quarters just to _make-sure_. That's how he'd figured out the whole dreams thing. The second he'd stepped back into the room his imzadi's emotions had calmed and his mind had gone orange-y as the nightmare shifted into something less panic-inducing. Taehyung couldn't see it but he could feel what it was. Probably something about him, by the way Jungkook's lips pulled up at the corner and he smelled of summer berries and romance and _love_.

All the things he wasn't getting from Taehyung when he was awake.

Not that Jungkook ever complained. No, he was too wonderful for that. He'd caught one whiff of Taehyung's horror at the closed bond and told the older-man that his friendship was enough. He'd promised that it never had to be anything more than Taehyung was comfortable with: it was okay to be around each-other all the time because that was what friends did; it was okay to sleep across the room and have their toothbrushes side-by-side and know each other's schedules off-by-heart because those were all things the friends do.

 _"Friends, Taehyung."_ Jungkook had said. _"Just let me be your friend."_

Realistically, even that was too close for comfort. But what could Taehyung do? As much as he wished it weren't so, the pair were bonded. His body and his mind _needed_ Jungkook, now; he couldn't ignore him, or cover the pain with sex, or be away from him for more than half-a-day without getting a mind-numbing headache that started at the back of his eyes and flooded through his whole body until it hurt to _move_. His brother had explained that it'd get easier with time: one day he'd be  able leave Jungkook for weeks or months -  years even - and as long as the promises of the bond remained, neither of them would get sick, or die, though maybe they might feel more tired than usual. Maybe all the colors of the universe would be a little less _pure_.

What did it matter, though? By the time he was _physically_ capable of leaving Jungkook, Taehyung was mostly certain he wouldn't be _emotionally_ able to do so. Every day it got a little bit harder to pull his hand away when the younger reached out; every week it felt a little sillier to sleep in separate beds and not kiss each-other on the mouth or be inside each-other, or hear Jungkook cry-out his name.

Yeah, Taehyung was putting on a really good show, but that's all it was, really. In the end it became more about convincing himself than anyone else. Maybe that's why he was so good at it: Taehyung was the one that needed to believe he wasn't head-over-heels, sweaty-palms, butterflies-in-the-stomach, heart-in-his-throat, in love with Jungkook; h _e_ needed to believe that what he felt for the crewman was nothing more than his own biology working against him.

Because if he was in love - if it wasn't just his paracortex going into overdrive every time the pair were in the same room - then Taehyung was going to suck Jungkook dry.

And he couldn't do that.

~~He loved him too much to allow it.~~

But he wasn't in love, so it was okay. Jungkook was just his beautiful, warm, perfect, wonderful friend and Taehyung was only linked to him telepathically and it had nothing to do with fate, or a universal grand-design; it wasn't mysticism, it was science, and just because there was no medical explanation for the bond  _at this time_ , it didn't mean that there wasn't one: it simply meant that no one had found it yet.

The magic of today was the science of tomorrow, after all.

"Are you okay, Imzadi?"

Yes, there was a scientific reason as to why Taehyung's whole body lit up whenever Jungkook looked at him with his big, brown eyes, and called him that name that meant everything except for _'we're just friends'._ There was a quantitative explanation. There was. There had to be.

"I'm fine, Jungkook."

The ensign rubbed at his eyes, blinking against the darkness. "Did we drop out of warp?" 

The ship had slowed briefly to impulse and the stillness of it had shaken Taehyung from his sleep, though Jungkook had slept through the whole thing.

"How did you know?" The pilot asked.

"You have trouble sleeping when we're not at warp."

Taehyung hated that. Hated how attentive Jungkook was - how the younger-man seemed to know what he was thinking before he was even consciously thinking it: he always knew when to leave him alone, or when to touch him; always brought him a cup of coffee before he had the chance to realize his eyes were starting to droop; always came to him, hypospray in hand, before he recognized the head-ache growing behind his eyes as what it was.

Taehyung didn't deserve him.

He must have lived an outstanding past-life, because he certainly hadn't done anything in this one to warrant such a perfect gift.

"How long have you been awake for?" Jungkook asked him.

"A little while."

 _Hours_.

"You should've woken me up, instead of just watching me sleep."

Thank God for the low-light because Taehyung felt himself blush crimson.

"Y-You were just having a good dream so it, uh, caught my attention." He heard Jungkook sigh softly, and he shouldn't ask (he really shouldn't ask) but he does, anyway. "What were you dreaming?"

There was a moment of silence. "Us," the ensign said. "It's nothing crazy or anything. We're just sitting on the floor in here and you're just holding my hand. We don't even talk. You just keep brushing your thumb over my fingers and it's really nice."

The pilot resisted the urge to flinch. He wasn't sure why he said it, but he opened his mouth to speak and the first word that came out was, "sorry."

Jungkook just laughed. "It's fine, Tae. Like I said, it's a nice dream. It makes me happy."

"Are you happy, Jungkook? W-When you're awake?"

"Of course I am. Why wouldn't I be?"

Taehyung rolled onto his back, eyes locking on to the metal ceiling. His jaw strained. "Is this enough for you?"

 A pause. "Can't you feel that it is?"

What Taehyung felt from Jungkook was love and adoration and protection and comfort and satisfaction. But he also didn't miss the quiet edge of melancholy that the crewman carried in a darker corner of his mind. If Taehyung wasn't already so attuned to him he probably wouldn't've felt it. He wasn't even entirely sure if Jungkook himself was aware of his own sadness - that's how quiet it was.

But it was there. It was definitely there.

The empath sighed. "I just want to hear you say it, I guess. Would make me feel better if you said it."

"It's enough, Tae. It's plenty, alright?"

There he went again giving Taehyung exactly what he needed even though he knew the empath would never return the favor.

"Yeah, okay. Thanks."

"That's okay," Jungkook yawned. "Do you think you'll be able to go back to sleep now?"

"Probably, now that we're back at warp."

"Can I do 'nything for you?" The ensign's voice was muddled with sleep.

_~~Stop respecting my boundaries and come over here and hold me.~~ _

"I'm fine, Jungkook. Just go back to sleep; go back to your dream."

There was a moment of silence where Taehyung assumed Jungkook was already asleep.

But then:

"You're my dream."

And it was so clear that it felt like a shard of glass.

* * *

 

_Jin's skin is so soft._

_Jin is so lovely._

_Jin is so beautiful._

_I love the sound of Jin's voice._

_I'd do anything for Jin._

_My Jin._

_My Imzadi._

"Jesus Christ could you _shut up_ , Imzadi. I'm trying to, fucking, get some work done. Aren't you the captain of this ship? Don't you have some ship's business that requires your immediate attention, or something?"

He's getting told off by his imzadi but it doesn't matter. Namjoon would rather fight with Jin than sleep with anyone else for the rest of his goddamn life.

"Imzadi, I mean it, _stop_. Your disgusting holonovel romance thoughts are literally rotting my teeth. I love you too, but please go away so I can work."

Namjoon pouts. "But your shift finished ages ago, Imzadi." He hops down from his perch against the rear bio-bed and circles towards Jin.

The doctor turns to face him. "No, absolutely not. Stay away from me!"

As if Namjoon's gonna listen. Soon enough Jin's back is pressed into the wall and the captain's hands are wrapped around the edges of his hideous blue coat. His grip isn't particularly tight and if the doctor wanted to shrug free he probably could. That'd been the point after-all: get close enough to Jin to ruin the doctor's resolve, distract him for a minute, make it clear that Namjoon's not the only one who wants what he wants.

He must have that look in his eye because Jin's cheeks turn an adorable shade of pink and his breaths are a little more forced than usual. Namjoon dips his head and in a mean sort-of-maneuver starts mouthing at Jin's jaw slowly. Nothing more than that. Just his full lips pressing into the flesh near the base of Jin's ear, nipping lightly down towards his chin and back again.

This is something Namjoon knows Jin likes. It's why the doctor has no chance because, even though in a way it feels like the first time all over again, in reality the captain's already got all of Jin's sensitive spots mapped out in his brain; he knows exactly what he needs to do to drive him wild. Could probably make him come right here right now in his medical scrubs if he was a person far crueler than he is.

"Imzadi," Jin breathes and the name is more of a pleasurable whine than anything else. "You're so unfair. You're really _so_ unfair."

Namjoon runs his nose towards the doctor's ear. "Why, you don't like this?" He wraps his teeth around Jin's lobe and bites gently. "Want me to stop?"

The doctor's arms find their way around Namjoon's neck for purposes of support, and his eyes flutter shut and his cheeks look so hot with flush that Namjoon wants to bite _them_ too.

"W-We should probably h-have a conversation about _us_ b-before we go ahead and s-start sleeping together, Namjoon."

The captain shifts to press his lips against the corner of Jin's mouth. "A conversation? Okay, how's this," he kisses into him, "I love you," followed by another shiver-inducing lick of hislips, "I've always loved you."  He presses his body into Jin's so both men are flush against one another. "I've been trying to breathe without you all this time and it's been painful and stupid and I don't want to bother anymore." He runs his nose across the skin of the doctor's cheek. "I want to be with you forever and I want to start a family with you and I want to grow old with you and I want to give you every part of me, Imzadi. I belong to you. I want to make you feel so good because you make it easier for me to breathe. I'm never gonna leave you. Even if you say no and you want me to stop, I'm still going to love you from whatever distance makes you feel safe. I just want to be with you. Just want to make you feel good." He kisses Jin. "Will you let me make you feel good, Imzadi?" 

"After that monologue, Imzadi, you can have me right here in the medical bay."

Namjoon pauses. Wow, that's a tempting offer.

"Jesus," Jin breathes. "You're actually considering it. You're fucking filthy." The doctor pushes his knee between Namjoon's legs so that the flesh of their upper thighs are also flush. "You know, it's hard to go without sex for three whole years." It's the doctors turn to lick against Namjoon's lips with a motion so fast it almost isn't there. "Get really good with your imagination. Started thinking about all the things I wanted you to do to me. It's the only time I'd let myself indulge in the thought of you - when I was touching myself. Used to pretend it was your hands making me feel good. Used to imagine you fucking me against a wall, just like this. Fucking me until I couldn't see. I'd come so hard calling your name, Imzadi. Always  fucked-out on just the thought of you."

Yeah, so Namjoon had really overlooked the fact that Jin knew him just as well. The doctor knew how to get him off; he knew how crazy it made him to hear those filthy words come out of Jin's pretty, plump lips. Jesus, Namjoon couldn't even describe the the sound of Jin's syrupy voice when he whispered pure filth words against his imzadi's ear, but it was his favorite sound, maybe in the whole universe. Trumped only by the way Jin cried his name when he came. Now _that_ fucked the captain up more than he could say.

"Two can play this game, Imzadi. You wanna interrupt me when I'm working, you better be ready to follow through."

Then in less than a beat of his own heart the doctor's lips crush against Namjoon's, his long fingers burying themselves inside the captain's hair as they scratch against his scalp driving the  younger-man absolutely wild out of his mind with need. Soon enough he's pushing the doctors lab-coat off of his shoulders, letting it flutter to the ground forgotten, so that he could feel Jin's bare arms under his fingers.

Those lips, though. Those lips were not just for show. Jin could do things with them - all kinds of things - that drove the captain to complete madness. No one should be able to kiss as good as Kim Seokjin. It was a literal crime; a travesty of epic proportions. And yet his imzadi _could_ kiss like that; moreover, he's kissing Namjoon like that and it's been so long and it felt so good that maybe it isn't Jin who's in danger of coming in his uniform, but Namjoon, instead.

The captain can feel himself growing hard inside his trousers.

"Oh my fucking God I think I'm blind!"

Lucky, it isn't gonna be a problem. Namjoon pushes away from Jin so fast that his hip cathces on the edge of a bio-bed and sends him sprawling to the floor. He reaches out towards a medical unit to try and steady himself, but overshooting completely, as usual, all he does is claw at a tray of equipment which flies from the surface of the unit and clatters to the floor around him, hyposprays and vials of medication going in all directions.

_Fuuuuuck._

* * *

 

"Jesus, Imzadi, are you okay?!" Jin rushes forward with his hands outstretched. "Fucking hell, Kim Taehyung, couldn't you, fucking, knock or something!?"

"This is _sick bay_ , hyung! I didn't realise you two'd be _fucking out in the open_ inside the medical ward!"

The doctor wraps his hands around Namjoon's shoulders and pulls the confused captain from the floor. "We weren't _fucking_ you asshole, we were just _kissing!_ "

"I dunno, bro, I'm never gonna be able to get the sound of my fucking _captain_ moaning out of my head, fuck!"

"Jesus Christ, shut up." Jin's hands flutter across the captain's face. "God, Imzadi are you okay? You look like you're in shock."

Namjoon just blinks. "F-Fine, just s-surprised."

"Christ, Taehyung, if you've broken my husband I'm going to end you."

"No, n-no, I'm o-okay. Just, think I n-need to go to my q-quarters and h-have a sit down."

Jin cringes. It's gonna take weeks for Namjoon to recover from this embarrassment.

"Maybe a cold shower, too, hyung," Taehyung laughs.

Seokjin whips around to his brother. " _I will fucking destroy you if you don't shut up you absolute creature of the deep!"_ He turns back to Namjoon. "Imzadi are you sure? Do you want me to check you over first? You might've hurt yourself --"

"N-No!" The captain yells too loudly for the enclosed space. "N-No I'm _fine,_ just - just gonna let myself o-out. Gonna g-go to back to my quarters."

"Imzadi?"

"It's, uh, all g-good. It's good."

Jin watches him for a minute, and sighs. "If you're sure, babe. I'll come see you when I'm done here, alright?"

"Y-Yeah, okay."

Even though he's a little dazed, Seokjin's imzadi still shuffles across and kisses the doctor quickly before sauntering out of the room.

"He gonna be okay?" Taehyung asks.

Seokjin sighs. "Yeah, he's just in shock, it'll pass." He turns to his brother and crosses his arms over his chest, eyeing the younger-man skeptically. _"Well, you look sufficiently awful. What bring you to sick-bay at three in the morning?"_

His brother brushes his hand through the back of his hair, eyes shifting towards the ground. _"Can't sleep,"_ he thinks.

_"How's Jungkook?"_

_"Didn't come to talk about him."_

The doctor laughs. _"Of course you did. Why else would you be here? You keep refusing a sleep aid and that's pretty much all I can do for you medically, so you must be here because you need to talk. So come out with it. What's on your mind?"_

The  younger runs his tongue across his lips. _"He dreams of me, you know? Every night. Good dreams when I'm there. Bad dreams when I'm not."_

_"How do you know they're about you? Last time I checked you weren't really speaking to him much."_

Taehyung slumps against an open bio-bed. _"Just a certain feeling. Like when I praise him accidentally and he goes all orange and he smells like berries or roses. He only gets like that way when I'm around."_

Jin's heart lurches. _"That's uncomfortably lovely for you."_

_"Tell me about it. He makes me want to scream."_

_"You know I don't understand why you're acting this way. I know you came here looking for some kind of permission to keep this up, but I'm not sure I can satisfy you. Frankly I think you're being idiotic. You know how many people would die to be soul-bonded? I mean, put that aside, even. You know how many people would kill to have someone love them like that kid loves you? Why are you torturing him?"_

_"I'm trying to protect him."_

_"Fuck off, Kim Taehyung. You're trying to protect yourself. What happened at the Academy was disastrous and traumatizing for so many complicated reasons, but it was also heart-breaking because you liked that boy so much and even after everything he never loved you back. You're just too scared to let yourself be vulnerable because you don't want to be rejected. But Jungkook's not going to reject you, Tae. He's your imzadi, it's just, literally impossible."_

The younger man huffs. _"I'm not scared of his rejection. I_ ** _want_** _him to reject me."_

 _"That a bald faced lie, Kim Taehyung and you know it."_  The doctor shifts across the room until he's standing toe-to-toe with his younger brother.  _"I know you better than anyone else in this universe, Taehyung, save for Jungkook maybe, if you weren't always pushing him away."_ The doctor reached out and carded a hand through Taehyung's shiny, raven hair.  _"You were always such a clingy kid; you always wanted kisses and cuddles; just needed to be knee-to-knee with me all the time. Craved that contact. You must be fucking suffering right now, aren't you?"_

_"I'm not enjoying it, if that's what you're asking."_

Jin laughed. _"So why're you doing it to yourself? Jungkook's so desperate to touch you that he literally sits on his hands when you guys have a shift together on the bridge."_ His brother frowns at him, though there's surprise in his eyes. _"You never noticed? Namjoon thinks it's adorable, but to be honest it's just fucking sad. Why won't you just let him love you, huh? He's not falling **out** of love with you, even though you're being a fucking jack-ass. Why don't you just give in?" _

_"Too dangerous."_

Seokjin throws his hands in the air. _"Honestly, you're so boring. Can't you come up with something new. The whole ' **I'm too dangerous to be loved** ' thing is getting really old." _

His brother swats his hands away, pushing himself from the bio-bed and inching towards the exit. _"Y'know I didn't come here so you could insult me, hyung."_

_"No, you didn't. You came here to talk because you needed advice. Here's my advice: go back to your room, get into Jungkook's stupid single bed that you insisted on having, cuddle up to your imzadi and get a good night's sleep for once. It's not enough to just be in the_ **_room_ ** _together, Taehyung. You have to satisfy the bond or you're just gonna get sick again. Maybe you feel fine now, but what about two months from now? A year from now? This can't continue."_

_"I thought you said it would get_ **_easier_ ** _?"_

_"Yeah, you idiot, when you_ **_satisfy_ ** _the bond. All you're doing right now is starving a fever. It's not effective, it's just painful. You need to go and be with your mate_ **_properly_ ** _or you're just going to wear both of you down until you can't function anymore. You said you don't want to hurt Jungkook, right? Well then you need to go be with him. You don't know what's going to happen if you just give into this, but I can tell you neither of you is going to fare well if you don't, so realistically it's the lesser of two evils, anyway."_

Taehyung huffs. _"It's too late. We already decided to just be friends."_

Seokjin freezes. _"You did **what**?" _

_"It was his idea."_

_"Yeah because he was probably so scared you were going to_ ** _leave him_** _, otherwise! God, who raised you? It certainly wasn't our parents. They would  never let you get away with this kind of behavior."_ The doctor ran an exasperated fist through his hair. _"I should call your mother and tell her what you've been doing. She'll be so appalled that shell probably jump on a cargo vessel and fly out here just to beat you."_

_"If you tell mom I'll never speak to you again, hyung. If she finds out about this she'll force us home for the ceremony and she'll invite half of Betazed; I can't put Jungkook through that, Jinnie, he won't make it. He can barely take his shirt of in front of_ **_me_ ** _: how's he gonna make it through a whole ceremony where he has to be_ **_naked_ ** _in front of six-hundred on-lookers."_

When the doctor pictures it, the sight of cherry-red Jungkook is so amusing that he leans his head back and laughs. Even the corner of Taehyung's lips quirk upward. _"You're right, I'm sorry for even suggesting it. Poor Jungkook would have an aneurysm as die on the spot."_

_"That's if he even survives meeting mom. She'll devour him whole. With those eyes of his, and that shit-stupid smile, she's gonna take one look at him and he's never gonna make it out alive."_

Taehyung can't help the way that his face soften when he talks about Jungkook like their future together is a sure thing. Maybe he's not even aware that he's doing it, Seokjin rationalizes, and even-so, maybe that in and of itself is a good thing. If he thinks about the rest of his life and he sees Jungkook, in whatever form, then maybe they're both gonna be okay. Maybe it'll just take time. 

But Seokjin's so impatient; always has been, always will be.

_"Look, Tae, I don't wanna do this but you really do look awful and I might be your brother but I'm also your doctor and it's my responsibility to care for your physical health and well-being. Don't hate me but I'm ordering you back to your quarters and into bed with Jungkook. If you don't get a solid four hours before your shift starts, don't bother showing up. I'm gonna ask Jungkook tomorrow, as well."_

_"You can't force me to do that."_

Seokjin scrunches up his face. _"Of course I can. You see these here,"_ he points at the pins against his collar, _"I carry the rank of commander, not to mention this,"_ he points at the medical insignia against his breast, _"I'm also a doctor. I can over-rule the_ ** _captain_** _on medical orders if I want to. You think a measly lieutenant such as yourself can deny me? Go back to your quarters, Mr Kim, get into bed with your imzadi, and get four hours of decent sleep: that's an order."_

His brother balks at him _. "Jin, come on. D-Don't do this."_

_"That's Jin-hyung, to you. Or Doctor Kim. Either way, don't argue with me. Be on your way, lieutenant, I have a severely embarrassed imzadi of my own to deal with and I'm itching to get back to him. Maybe you won't admit it but I can sense you feel the same about Jungkook."_

His brother pressed his fingers into his temples. _"The nightmares have started. I can feel him go dark and it hurts me."_

 _"Physically or emotionally?"_  Jin asks.

 _"Both,"_ Taehyung admits. _"It's a pain behind my eyes but it also hurts here,"_ he places a hand over his heart.

_"Well then, it sounds like he needs you as much as you  need him. Go be with him, okay? Deal with whatever consequences when you've slept."_

The lieutenant opens his mouth and for a second Jin thinks he's going to argue. In the end he just closes his eyes and says, "okay," as if the spoken words have more impact than the telepathic ones.

Jin high-fives himself internally. He can't wait to tell his imzadi what he's done.

* * *

 

When the alarm wakes Jungkook in the morning he's hot. Really hot. Sweaty, sticky, uncomfortable hot.

When he figures out the reason, his mind experiences a minor short-circuit. At first, he really thinks he's dreaming.

Taehyung's limbs are wrapped all around him and the empath's face is buried in the crook of Jungkook's neck. The older-boy hasn't woken with the alarm; he's still sleeping soundly, his lips slightly parted, tickling Jungkook's shoulder when he breathes; he has one leg draped over the top of the younger-man's middle, while his arms circle his neck, clasped at the other end like the Betazoid was worried Jungkook might up and try to flee in the middle of the night.

He's so close to the ensign. Unbelievably, mind-alteringly close. Jungkook's having trouble understanding how he even managed to wedge into his bed in the middle of the night without waking him. The crewman is a deep sleeper, but it feels kind of impossible that Taehyung - Taehyung who he craves so much that it _hurts_ \- could get into his bed, and press his body up against him and Jungkook wouldn't even _wake_.

What kind of cruel reality was this? A reality where Jungkook couldn't experience the feeling of falling back to sleep with Taehyung in his arms. How had he slept through such a momentous occasion? Why was the universe so unkind? He's positively irritated with himself, that is, until Taehyung shifts in his sleep, nuzzling deeper into Jungkook's shoulder and mumbling something that sounds like a sleep-laden _'imzadi'_ though the ensign can't be sure.

It's a terrible sort of torture because all Jungkook wants to do now is just lie here for the rest of eternity. Just throw away all of his ambitions and resign to staying in, holding Taehyung like this. His own arms are wrapped around the older-man's torso, and the material of his sleeping-clothes are so thin that the ensign can feel his warm, soft flesh underneath: it's so enticing an idea to just give the betazoid a little squeeze that Jungkook has to press his eyes shut and actively _focus_ on not doing so.

The pair both have a shift on the bridge, though. The captain had allowed them to re-organize their schedules so they could be together throughout the day, as much as possible. It meant that they could both return to work sooner rather than later, which was something both of them had wanted. Nowadays when Taehyung took the helm, more often than not, Jungkook was at the conn beside him, trying his hardest to focus but having a tough time stringing together coherent thought through the knowledge that he could reach out and _touch_ Taehyung any time. He was just an arm's length away, most of the time. Physically, at least. Emotionally, there was still an ocean between them, and Jungkook was more afraid of the deep water than anything else.

This morning Taehyung was closer than close, though. Jungkook could smell his strawberry body-wash and feel his lips against his flesh and hear his breathing and he wanted this moment to last forever.

The universe was not so kind, though, and when the alarm rings a second time Taehyung is stirring in his arms, shifting his body in a stretch, his breathing shallowing some as he wakes slowly.

Now's the moment of truth and Jungkook braces himself, expecting his imzadi to jerk out of his arms in a panic and demand an explanation that Jungkook can't give.

"Jungkookie?"

The ensign swoons. Taehyung doesn't use his nickname much at all, anymore. He never calls the ensign imzadi and even goes so far as to flinch sometimes when the other uses the word. It feels good to hear  - the nickname. Unimaginably, unexpectedly wonderful.

"Morning, Tae," he says carefully.

"Hm 's'it morning 'lready?" His body is flush against Jungkook's and the young ensign is ready to _die_ for this man.

"It's oh-seven-hundred. Our shifts start in an hour." 

"An hour?" The older-man's arms squeeze around Jungkook's shoulders. "'Kay 'm gonna sleep a li'l more then, 'm still tired."

This is a dream. Or maybe a nightmare, because there's things going on that Jungkook doesn't understand and the fear is so real. Something will happen soon and Taehyung will pull away from him - push Jungkook off, maybe - and it'll be over, and that uncomfortable ache that's settled inside the ensign's heart will roar loudly and the crewman will wake up cold and sweating and alone and Taehyung won't be there; the sound of his deep breathing won't fill the silent room and coax Jungkook away from the edge.

When the ensign has nightmares Taehyung is never there to catch him.

"Why're you afraid," the empath whispers against the skin of the crewman's neck, "I scare you?"

Jungkook shifts a little, tries to ignore the way his grip reflexively tightens around Taehyung's waist. "No, I just - I'm waiting for you to disappear, is all."

A long sigh. "Why'ould I do that, Jungkookie?"

The ensign swallows. "That's how this nightmare works."

"Mmm," Taehyung's nose grazes the crewman's jaw. "You have too many nightmares. I hate it."

"So do I."

"Wanna make you feel safe," Taehyung mumbles.

Jungkook's ready to cry. "Then you have to stop leaving me," he chokes.

"Mm'kay, won't do that 'nymore. Don't like it, anyway."

He could've left it at that but some instinct for survival rips through his whole body and before he can even stop himself he's asking Taehyung to "promise."

"I won't leave," the empath responds lightly. "Promise. So don't be scared anymore, 'kay? Not gonna leave. Can't."

"But you want to?"

There's a pause. "Not right now."

Jungkook reels. "Am I still asleep?" He asks.

"Maybe we both are," Taehyung says.

The alarm rings again.

"Then again, maybe not."

"I - I should get up," Jungkook whispers. "If it's a dream then when I get up I'll wake, right?"

"'S not a dream," Taehyung sighs unhappily. "If it was a dream that stupid alarm wouldn't keep sounding and we could stay like this all day."

Jungkook's face crumples up with shock and adoration and confusion. "You want to do that?"

"Yeah," the empath muses, and the lightness of his voice is slowly replaced with more and more lucidity. It just makes Jungkook nervous. "It's hard for me to not touch you all the time. Literally all the time. Don't wanna confuse you but it's hard. Hurts."

"What do you mean it hurts, Tae?"

The empath's hands unlock from around Jungkook's neck and the crewman expects him to let go. Instead, the lieutenant presses his long fingers against Jungkook's upper arm and runs the soft pads down the length of his muscled skin. "Feels like the beginning of a flu. Muscles hurt and I get a headache. Better when we're in the same room but also worse. Need more self-control when we're in the same room."

Jungkook shifts so he can almost see the whole of his imzadi's face. "Wait, are you serious, Tae? It actually physically hurts you?"

"Jin-hyung says it'll get easier. Just because my body's adapting. Doesn't know how to work right without you yet."

"Fuck, Kim Taehyung. Why didn't you tell me this sooner?"

"Don't wanna confuse you."

"Jesus Christ, you idiot, your health and well-being is more important than whether or not I'm _confused_."

Jungkook bundles Taehyung's body as close to his own as he can. He tries to tell himself its not for him; tries to convince his heart and his mind that this is solely for Taehyung's well-being and not because he loves him so much that being unable to touch him is the most intense torture he's ever experienced in his whole life. Even though it doesn't _physically_ harm him, he'd still take breaking both his wrists in a basketball match, like he had at fifteen, over tucking his hands under his thighs when he's sat next to his imzadi on the bridge because that's all he can do to _resist_.

Taehyung's hand flattens against his bare bicep. "You have no idea how much relief that gives me," he says quietly.

Jungkook's pretty sure he _does_ have an idea... doesn't dare to voice it, though.

"Tae," the ensign sighs. "You can't do what you've been doing anymore, okay? I get that you don't want this to be - um, r-romantic, or anything but you have to come to me when you need me, okay? If it's like the doctor says then you won't have to d-do it so much in the future, so just come to me now, alright? I won't get confused. I promise."

 _"Maybe **I'll**_ _get confused._ "

Jungkook doesn't feel Taehyung's breath against his collar and the room remains completely quiet, save for his own breathing, so he's not sure _what_ he heard, but he definitely heard something.

"What, Tae?"

"Didn't say anything," the empath responds.

The alarm sounds for a fourth time.

"Okay, fuck. I'm awake!" Taehyung sits up, pulling Jungkook with him and their legs press together underneath the covers. "God, I haven't had a decent sleep in three-weeks, you'd think the computer would have some fucking mercy."

Jungkook grimaces. When he woke up in the night and Taehyung wasn't there, he'd never for a second considered that the empath was suffering as well. He'd always just assumed that his late-night mouth breathing annoyed the older-man so much that he couldn't take it anymore, and _that's_ why he left. The idea that it was some kind of uncomfortable insomnia brought on by a lack of contact never even crossed his mind.

"Tae," Jungkook sighs. "You're gonna touch me from now on, yeah? No more hurting yourself. I'm not going to get upset or confused, so don't hold back anymore, please."

The empath's body tensed up for a moment as he seemed to play out some kind of internal battle inside his mind. Eventually, though, he sighs in a defeated sort of way and says, "okay."

After that moment in their quarters, Jungkook realizes something he hadn't at all expected. Over the past three-weeks he'd come up with a lot of words to describe Taehyung: adjectives like distant and reserved - cold, and careful. So when, over the course of the day, Taehyung presses their arms together as they eat, slings his hands around Jungkook's waist while he brushes his teeth, lets their hands glance across each-other in the hallway and, practically, _weaves_ his body around Jungkook's in the privacy of the turbo lift, the ensign is mildly shocked when he finds himself thinking: _he's clingy._

 _Taehyung is goddamn_ **clingy** _._ _  
_

It was only in the turbolift, Taehyung almost hanging off Jungkook in the style of a koala, that the lieutenant shifted a little, pulling away with hot cheeks, so that he could ask Jungkook, "sorry, is this too much?" 

The ensign shook his head. "N-No, it's fine."

He isn't fine, though. Jungkook wants to bury his face in Taehyung's shoulder so badly that he's actually about to fucking _expire_.

The lieutenant pulls away, and the crewman has to resist the urge to groan. "Halt turbolift," Taehyung says, brushing the back of his hair. "Jungkook you know this goes both ways, right? I'm not _so_ evil that I'm gonna stop you from touching me back if you want to."

The ensign shuts his eyes. "You don't like it, though. It makes you uncomfortable."

The empath grimaces. "It's only because I know there's, um, more to it, for you."

"What do you mean?" Jungkook swallows.

"When I touch you there's physical relief. It feels nice like a... hypospray feels nice." Jungkook cringes at being compared to a piece of medical equipment, but he says nothing. "When you touch _me,_ you experience _emotional_ relief. You go all orange and you smell like berries and roses, and shit. It's hard to put into words. But when you flash all tangerine and pink like a sunset its a... romantic, thing. The same thing happens with Jin and Namjoon, except they're a little more purple, and Jimin always makes me think of a mojito for some reason: like, fresh and clean citrus and the ocean."

Jungkook stares at his imzadi. "Th-that's amazing, Tae - I mean, um, sorry a-about the or-orange thing, but holy-shit is it really like that? Do you get smells and colors and stuff?"

He watches Taehyung blink, surprised. "I mean yes and no. There's not _technically_ any of those things physically happening for me to see or smell, but it's just a _sense_ that I get. I think my brain gets so much information that it's the only way it can sort it so that I understand. B-But that's besides the point, I'm trying to say that if you're going to let me touch you all the time then it would be pretty stupid of me to expect you to not do the same."

"B-But you just said --"

The empath huffs. "I know what I said. But you promised me that you're not gonna get confused, so I'll suck it up and deal with it, okay? I-I'm sure I'll get used to it after a while. It's just o-odd to have someone feel th-those things towards you."

"Sorry," Jungkook says again.

"It's fine. I'm sorry that we can't -- well, that I don't, um, get the same feeling."

Those words make Jungkook ache in a way that he doesn't understand. Some foreign part of his mind that isn't quite human feels a sort of _failure_ when Taehyung tells him that the romantic feelings only go one way. It's more than just the heart-break that he might feel from unrequited love, but something a lot deeper, and more biological. The bond tells him that Taehyung loves him, and yet, when the empath denies it out-loud the conflict and disappointment that flits through his head is worse than any failing grade he might've gotten at the Academy. It's so much more than that, but it's the only way he can rationalize the sensation.

_I worked so hard on this, I put my whole heart and soul into this, I know this is right, and I feel it in my heart and in my mind and yet Taehyung **says** he doesn't love me. _

It's like the empath took a pen an wrote a big red 'F' for 'fail' across his heart. 

It fucking stings.

"Sorry," Taehyung mumbles, and even though he's denying Jungkook what he really wants he reaches forward and wraps his arms around his shoulders.

It's not confusing. It's really not confusing at all.

"That's okay," Jungkook says, and he finally lets himself drop his head into the crook of Taehyung's neck, inhaling and trying his best not to cry because to him this feels so right.

To him, Taehyung in his arms is a big green 'A+' and there's no way to argue around it. Physically _and_ emotionally.

"See," Taehyung muses. "This is fine, right? We can just do this and we'll both be okay."

"Yeah," Jungkook agrees.

But what he really means is _"I'm sorry that I love you."_

* * *

 

 

"You look better," Jimin says, eying his best-friend where he rests against the security panel. "Finally decided to stop being an abominable jackass?"

The empath huffs, brushing his hair out of his eyes with a flourish. "Jungkookie and I have come to an arrangement that is mutually convenient, if that's what you're asking."

" _'Mutually convenient'?_ Jesus you sound like the evil dominatrix in a holonovel. You guys should be honey-mooning, right now: having lots of sex and slow-dancing in your quarters and shit. I don't understand you, bro."

Taehyung just crosses his arms over his chest. "I don't like him like that," he says plainly.

Jimin rolls his eyes. "Even if I believed that, Jungkook is a grade-A hottie, and he's exactly your type. If this were the Academy, he could tell you he hates puppies and you still would've fucked him."

The empath snorts. "Well this is not the Academy, and I am a grown-up now and I care about Jungkook - I don't want to play with him."

"Oh so you _do_ care about him? I thought this was all about mutual convenience, but I guess if you _care_ then the fact that you're torturing the kid is completely oka --"

"Oh look it's Commander Min."

Jimin's head whips toward the turbo-lift, "Yoongi? Where?"

The security chief can hear his best-friend laughing at him but he doesn't care. He's aware of the fact that he's completely, utterly whipped for his First Officer, but unlike certain emotionally-disabled starship pilots, he couldn't be happier to be in possession of this knowledge. He's falling in love. He's falling in love and it feels fantastic and all he wants to do is lean into the feelings and have it envelop him, body and soul, until all he can see and feel is Yoongi and his dark eyes and his cool hands and his --

"Jesus Christ, can you _stop?_ I'm positively choking on your affection, right now. You're literally _blinding_ me, Jimin. I can't think straight _._ Ow, bro, seriously, tone it down."

No, he won't tone it down. It's the first time he's seen Yoongi up and about in almost three-weeks. The meld had been so hard for him that he'd collapsed in the middle of sick-bay, and though Jimin had panicked and held the Vulcan in his arms, the doctor had _sworn_ that he wasn't even unconscious, just sleeping off the strain. He'd had so little energy left afterwards that the commander spent an entire week horizontal, and Jimin had visited him over all seven days.

Learning about Jungkook and Taehyung, about the betazoid-bonding, the commander had found himself day-dreaming about what it might be like to be tied to someone else's soul: to Yoongi, maybe, if he let himself get carried away. The idea of it made him feel so silly and so excited and even a little bit sad that it could only ever be a fantasy for him. He could never be so in sync with another, being human as he was.

But then, one day, he'd been worrying about whether his near-constant visits were irritating the commander, and not three seconds later Yoongi had put his hand on Jimin's and thanked him for coming every day; he'd told him, bashfully and with pink cheeks, how much he looked forward to it; he told the lieutenant that it was his favorite part of the day, when Jimin came to see him.

And then the chief of security didn't feel sad anymore - he didn't feel like he was missing out - because Taehyung and Jungkook were struggling so much, and Namjoon and Jin had their problems too: but he and Yoongi... they were _working_. Everything was new and delicate and exciting but it was _going so well_. The more time they spent together - the more they realized how much they liked each other - the more they _wanted_ to keep going. It felt so easy, and so comfortable and so _right._ They hadn't slept together, hadn't even kissed, and yet Jimin felt more intimately connected to his First Officer than he had to almost anyone in his life. Taehyung included.

"Okay," the betazoid makes a gagging sound. "I'm just gonna excuse myself over here, I can't even be around you right now."

Jimin doesn't even turn to say goodbye. His eyes are locked on Yoongi's as the commander walks slowly towards him; the Vulcan isn't smiling - never really smiles - but something in his eyes says _happy_ and something in Jimin's heart tells him that he's the reason why. So the commander doesn't need to smile, doesn't need to say anything. Just that look in his eye as he stops in front of the lieutenant and Jimin doesn't have to be telepathic or soul-bonded to know he's saying _"I'm so happy to see you."_

"Hey," the commander's hand twitches at his side and Jimin thinks he might've reached up and pushed his hair out of his eyes if they were alone, instead of at work, on the bridge. 

"Hi," he whispers in return and he smiles so wide that his vision is obscured, but not enough to miss the way that the commander's ears turn pink. "You look amazing," he says.

And it's true. It's another thing that shocks Jimin, but every-time he sees the commander he's almost overwhelmed by how _attractive_ he finds him. He'd usually only go for the tall, strong-types with deep colored skin, and here was Yoongi, completely the opposite. He was small and lean and his flesh was so pale and clear that the lieutenant wondered whether it could even take on color at all. It didn't matter though: didn't matter that Yoongi wasn't particularly tall or muscular. There was still something so inherently _masculine a_ bout him, that drove Jimin completely wild. It was in the shape of his hands, and the sound of his voice; the way he licked at the corners of his lips when he was thinking, or raised his brow at someone else when the answers were clear to him and he wasn't quite sure why everyone else _wasn't getting it_. Yoongi often looked at Jimin during those times: he'd turn to the lieutenant with a cocked brow and his features would seem passive and bored but his eyes would read _"you get it, right? You understand me."_

The best part was, nine-times-out-of-ten, Jimin _did_ understand. He found himself translating for the commander more than even the _captain_ these days, and the pair had been friends for almost ten _years_. 

"I feel pretty amazing," Yoongi's shoulders squared a little. "I'm very happy to be back at work."

"Of course you are," Jimin smiled. "I'm glad you took some time to heal first."

The commander scuffed his shoe against the carpet. "I probably would not have if I wasn't so afraid you might cuff me to the bio-bed."

Jimin tips his head back and laughs. "I don't even carry cuffs. Though maybe I should, if it'll keep you in line."

He doesn't mean for it to sound so sexually-charged, but he's not sorry that it does. The way that Yoongi's neck goes red and the edge of his brow twitches as he processes what the lieutenant's just said gives Jimin an inordinate amount of pleasure. He doesn't expect Yoongi to respond, doesn't need him to. It's enough to just know that he can make the man in front of him - stoic, controlled, Vulcan-Yoongi - feel even a little bit flustered.

So when the commander opens his mouth and says, "maybe I should have booked a room on Risa, as well as a restaurant," the lieutenant is so ready to just fucking _devour_ him, right then and there on the bridge in front of everyone, that the restraint almost sends him blind. 

"Maybe you should," he says, instead.

"Maybe I will," the commander responds.

* * *

"What the fuck do you think you're doing Lieutenant!" 

Hoseok doesn't like being ignored. It doesn't happen often - usually the sheer _volume_ of his presence is enough to garner the attention that he deserves - but on the odd occasion that it does, he has a hard time dealing with it.

"Lieutenant, I'm fucking _talking_ to you!"

"Yeah, I could hear you from deck thirteen, sir, why you gotta be so loud?"

The commander's eye twitches. He hates this girl. He hates her. He's never said that about anyone in his _life_ but Lieutenant Ahn and her irritating voice and her inability to follow simple instructions and her fucking _kitten sneeze_ fill Hoseok with such an inordinate amount of rage that every-time the pair are in the same room he's surprised his fucking head doesn't explode.

"Stop what you're doing," he says coldly.

"Yeah, just gimme a sec, I'm almost done."

He can feel it. He can really feel it. That pressure building behinds his eyes as pure unadulterated fury sparks in his chest.

"STOP WHAT YOU'RE DOING!"

The lieutenant jumps at his raised voice and isolinear chips go flying everywhere. She whips around to stare at the commander with a deeply terrifying expression, and pushes up from the ground with a huff.

"What the fuck is wrong with you!" She yells, and Hoseok wonders for a second whether she might actually  _push_ him. "I said I was almost done and now you've fucked up all the colors you asshole, it's gonna take me three years to sort through them again!"

He clicks his tongue, running a fist though his hair. "What the fuck is wrong with _you?"_ He spits, pointing right at her. "You can't just come in here and take whatever you want, Lieutenant! Those chips are reserved for _engineering_ , you fucking idiot, they're not supposed to be used with the _weapons systems_!"

She comes right into his face. "They're the same fucking thing!"

"No they're not!"

"Yes they are! They're spare fucking chips! You guys don't need them! I'm just borrowing them for a second!"

"You can't just _take_ isolinear chips from a different section, you fool! They're _coded_ for use!"

"That's why I was _testing_ them! I was almost fucking done before you _screamed_ at me like a banshee and mixed everything up you absolute waste of time!"

Hoseok's eye twitches. His nose flares. He's nose to nose with the girl and his brain just short circuits.

"I want to kiss you so badly right now," he seethes.

"If you spent less time talking shit then maybe I'd let you."

"Are you saying you won't if I try?"

"Did I fucking stutter?"

The chief bites his lip and runs his eyes across the lieutenant's whole body. He's never met a person more difficult to read. Sometimes Hani says yes when she means no, sometimes she says no when she means yes; half the time she doesn't say anything at all, she just lets Hoseok make a fool of himself as he tries to figure her out.

Frankly, he's never been more attracted to anyone in his _life_.

It's not even that she's pretty. Yeah, she's gorgeous; damn beautiful, to be honest. She has wide almond eyes and full lips and clear skin; her hair is long and silky, chestnut in color, and she likes to whip around when she's irritated. She's shorter than Hoseok and has a body that drives him to absolute madness: long limbs and a tiny waist.

He's attracted to her, physically. But it's not even that. It's _her_ \- it's who she is. It's the sound of her voice and the words that she uses; it's the way she's not afraid to yell at Hoseok, even when she might be wrong; it's her stupid-cute sneeze and the fact that he knows she can fit an inordinate amount of noodles into her face when she's starving; it's the way she laughs and smiles as big as Hoseok does; the fact that until he met her he didn't think there was anyone _just like him_ , but here she is, standing in front of him with her chest puffed out like an angry little bird, and she's proving him wrong _as usual_.

And he _hates_ being wrong.

So, if she was anyone else, maybe he would kiss her; reach out and take her by the collar and pull the girl up to meet his lips. He and Hani had shared a number of aggressive kisses over the last few weeks, since they'd met on the bridge. He liked it - a lot, actually - to get Hani all worked up until she launched at him, practically sticking her tongue right down his throat without any kind of pause.

He'd really liked it: up until about a week ago when he'd asked her out to dinner properly - not just meeting or eating together in the mess, but real, legitimate dinner: a date - and she'd looked up from her giant plate of spaghetti, beefy, tomato-y sauce swiped across her face, and said "why?"

It was a new thing, something Hoseok hadn't really experienced before. It wasn't the rejection itself - he was comfortable with that - but rather, the idea that he wanted her, spaghetti face and all, to say yes because he _wanted_ to be with her, in a larger capacity: not just making-out and having hate-sex after a particularly shitty day. He wanted to make Hani laugh, really, and kiss her when she was in a good mood, and do dumb shit like replicate her flowers and bring her a coffee in the morning.

Wanted to hold her hand.

Space travel was turning him fucking yumpy.

"What? You're gonna fucking yell at me and then back right off? Someone's not in top shape today."

This was another issue. Hani would say things and Hoseok's feelings would be _hurt_. It was a struggle because that was kind of how their relationship worked: one person yelled at the other and they spat insults back and forth until either-one couldn't take it anymore and latched onto the other's lips without asking for permission first. It was fine for two straight weeks - he enjoyed it, even. But now, when Hani said something to him with that viscous tone, he wanted to lash out in a different way. He didn't want to quip back at her with something clever, or sexually implicit. Instead, he wanted to put his hand over his heart, look at her with wide eyes, and ask her why she's always gotta be so _mean_.

"You know what, Hani, just take the chips. Just, fucking, make sure you check them first, I don't want you blowing up the weapons array."

The girl blinks. "Seriously? You're gonna scream at me for trying to do _exactly_ that, and then you're just gonna let me have them?"

"Honestly, I'm pretty fucking busy today, so I don't have time to argue with you."

The girl blinks. "You always have time to argue with me."

"Not today, Hani."

"Wait, why are you calling me _Hani,_ Jesus, you're freaking me out. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, like you said, I'm obviously not in 'top shape' today."

"That was a joke, Hope."

"Yeah, well, guess it wasn't very funny."

"Okay, um. Sorry?"

The chief runs his hand through his hair, mostly out of exasperation this time. "It's fine, just, take the chips, get out of my engine-room."

"Hobi, seriously. You're worrying me. What's wrong?"

"It's nothing, Hani, seriously. Just take the chips."

"Hoseok-ah. Come on, we're friends, right?"

He shouldn't say it. He shouldn't. He really shouldn't.

"Yeah, well that's kind of the problem isn't it?"

He said it. 

_Fuck._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oml Hoseok angst!?


	11. Don't Ruin Dessert

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lots of things cleared up and a couple of things... not. 
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: intense language pertaining to suicide in the last section. None of our characters are actually suicidal, though. Let me just make that clear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS IS UNEDITED: READ AT YA OWN RISK
> 
> I cried when I wrote this. You'll know when. 
> 
> Also lmfao when I wrote the 'club scene' I was definitely listening to ZHU's 'Faded' so I dunno, throw it on if you wanna get into the mooooooood.

"Enter,"

Seokjin heard his imzadi's voice from the other side of the partition, and the door opened automatically. Namjoon was sat behind his desk, glasses perched on the end of his nose, data pad in his hands and a line forming between his brows. He looked so unbelievably cute with his lips pursed like that, and his dark grey hair mussed all over the place, as if he'd run his hands through it over and over in exasperation.

"Imzadi," Jin grinned, leaning against the door with his arms crossed over his chest. "Look at you, we've only been back together for a month and you're already choosing work over me."

The captain's head whipped up and his eyes took on a panicked expression. "Imzadi? Shit, what time is is? God, I'm sorry, we were supposed to meet, weren't we? I was just trying to get this shit over with so I could put it away."

"Did you manage?" The doctor asked, stepping into the captain's ready room.

"Yes, I'm just reading it over to make sure I didn't fuck up the conjugation or anything. The Andorian language is so complicated... but I wanted to send a note to Sub-Commander Ch'ethihrehr and thank him for the Ale he sent after we helped him repair his medical freighter last month."

"Sub-Commander who now?"

"Ch'ethihrehr," Namjoon laughed. "Fucking mouthful, right? Could've just send something in Federation-Standard but he went to all the trouble to write me a note in Hangul because he knows I'm a language geek, so... I dunno, just wanted to do something nice, I guess."

The doctor swooned and rounded the captain's desk, twisting him around in his chair so he can plop down in his lap. "My Imzadi is so thoughtful," he cooed, dipping his head so he could kiss the captain lightly on the mouth.

"Mmm," the captain agreed, kissing him back. "I try."

The doctor laughed. "Well, I'm not sure how much more time you intend to spend neck-deep in Andorian Semantics, but we've fallen into synchronous orbit with Risa. It's seventeen-hundred local time... not sure if you're aware, but happy-hour generally starts at five."

The captain wrapped his arms around Jin's waist. "Is that so?" He asked.

"Tis," the doctor confirmed. "So, y'know, I was thinking, if you're interested, seeing as I'm off-shift, and you're off-shift, we could beam down to the planet and have a drink or twelve, and maybe go for a walk, and have some dinner, and see where the night takes us." Jin watched the captain with an amused expression. "Only if you're interested, though."

Namjoon leaned back against his chair, his eyes playful. "I dunno, Imzadi. I've just got _so_ much work to do and I don't know if I can spare the time..."

Jin pouted. "Well, if you're that busy, I guess I shouldn't have booked a table at that fresh-seafood place you like on Suraya Bay..."

"That really is a shame," Namjoon breathed.

"Yeah, a huge shame." Seokjin shook his head. "What am I gonna do about the Admiral's Suite at the Four Quadrants? I booked it out for two-nights, you know? It cost a fortune. Guess I'm just gonna have to hail the surface and cancel..."

The captain froze. "Two nights?" He whispered.

"Two," Jin said. "Wasn't even planning on leaving the room, really. Apparently they have twenty-eight-hour room service, you know? Because the night's are longer on Risa... a few extra hours of darkness to get up to no good..." The captain stood so quickly that Jin was practically knocked to the floor. "What are you doing?" The doctor asked, trying to regain his balance now that he was back on two feet.

"Going to pack," Namjoon said.

Seokjin laughed. "Already did it for you."

The captain's eye twitched. "Then what were you waiting for? Let's get going!"

"You, obviously," the doctor smiled, reaching out to smooth Namjoon's hair. "Was waiting for you, Imzadi."

* * *

 

Namjoon took a deep breath in.

This was it. This was the life. The air was warm, but not too hot, and it smelled of tropical flowers and fresh sea-air and sunscreen. Off in the distance there was band playing: native Risan lyrics which were so melodious and romantic in sound - their meaning even more so - with a distinct Hawaiian twist, obviously thrown together for the human tourists. The sun was setting so the torches which lined the pathway towards the sea were illuminated in soft, orange firelight.

His imzadi was also with him: the most beautiful view of all.

"Yuck," Seokjin laughed. "You're too romantic for your own good, it makes me physically ill."

Namjoon laughed. "Nah, you love it."

"I love you," the doctor corrected. "So I _tolerate_ it."

The captain rolled his eyes. He was still getting used to the fact that Seokjin was always tapped into his thoughts. He didn't want to hide anything, obviously, so he was having to grow more-and-more accustomed to the temporary embarrassment that came along with next-to-no mental privacy. Seokjin also wasn't one to let a particularly hilarious thought pass him by without mentioning it out-loud, as well, much to the captain's constant mortification.

"Gods this is nice," Jin said. "I can't believe I'm finally seeing this with my own two eyes."

Namjoon felt his brow raise. "You've never been to Risa before?"

"Not ever - well, I mean I beamed down after you were kidnapped but I didn't actually get to _see_ anything. I was too busy worrying over your catatonic ass."

The captain frowned. "You didn't beam down during the day with your brother like you said?"

The doctor shook his head. "Nah, after you came to see me, I have to admit I cancelled my plans with Tae and went back to my room and sulked for eighteen-straight-hours."

"Seriously?" Namjoon gaped.

"Seriously."

The captain gripped his imzadi's hand tighter. "Sorry, I guess I shouldn't have done that. Too soon, right?"

Seokjin sighed. "I dunno - maybe? Can it actually ever be 'too soon' between two people who are linked like us?"

Namjoon pursed his lips. "I have no idea. I actually wondered whether _this_ might be too soon. It's why I didn't bother to organize anything. You kind of traumatized me last time."

The doctor smiled. "Yeah, you should've seen the look on your face. It was horrifying, actually."

His imzadi's smile faded some, and Namjoon slung his arm across his shoulder, their hands still connected, and pulled the doctor into his side. "Well, guess it doesn't matter. We made it here anyway, didn't we? We can finally have that honey-moon we should've had _six years ago_ , when you never told me we were _married_."

"Ouch," the doctor breathed. "Still haven't let that one go, have you?"

Namjoon set off towards the beach, pulling Seokjin with him. "I'm gonna hold that over you forever, Imzadi. Get used to hearing about it."

"Fair," Jin mused. "I'll allow it."

Soon enough the ground beneath their feet turned from soft, smooth drift-wood, to even silkier cool, white-sand. The ocean was visible now, some kind of bio-iridescence lighting up the edge of the lapping waves as they kissed quietly against the shore. It was absolutely  breathtaking in it's serenity. It was impossible to come to this place and feel anything but _calm_.

"So where's this restaurant, anyway?" Jin asked. "It was kind of hard to pin-point on the map."

"That's because it's not really a restaurant, I guess. It's a boat, a little bit off-shore. They fish through the late afternoon and bring fresh-seafood out on deck for dinner, every evening."

"Where do they collect us?" The doctor frowned.

"They don't," Namjoon grinned. "You have to swim out there."

Seokjin stopped on the center of the beach. "Wait, are you _serious_ _?"_

"Yep," the captain laughed, already pulling off his shirt. He smirked at Jin's nervous expression. "Don't worry, I know you're a shitty swimmer. It's really more of a _wade_ than a swim, anyway." 

"W-What about sh-sharks?"

"No sharks," Namjoon said. "At least, not where the tourists are. They're not really sharks, either. They look more like whales except they have sixteen-rows of teeth and twelve eyes --"

The doctor pressed against his communicator. "Doctor Kim to the Triptych, beam me up!"

The captain laughed and hit his own. "Belay that," he smiled. "The doctor's just kidding."

"No, seriously, Imzadi. I'm not going out there."

"You absolutely are," Namjoon grinned. "Shark or no sharks, I'm not gonna let anything touch you. Besides, it's the best food on the the planet, and I know you can't resist good food, Jin."

The doctor eyed him nervously, dark irises scanning over his clad-chest. "You know you weren't this fit three years ago," he mused. "I'd like you to know that this new, fit, captain thing you've got going on is the only reason I'm allowing you to convince me that this is a good idea."

"Turns out command training is a lot more hands on than a PhD in xenolinguistics."

The doctor reached out and pressed his hand against Namjoon's heart. "These," he said after a moment. "I like these."

"My pecs?"

"Yeah, and,"  Jin pushed another hand against his the captain's shoulder, twisting him around. "That," he said. "It used to be completely flat. How'd you manage _that_?"

Namjoon sighed. "I'm about to take you on the most romantic date of your life and you're choosing now to query me on my glute growth."

"We're getting re-acquainted, aren't we?" The doctor leaned down. "Hello Imzadi's new booty. My name is Jin and we are going to be very good friends."

"Wow, please stop." The captain twisted out of Seokjin's grip and turned back to shoot him a displeased expression. "At least I keep my thoughts to myself, you ass."

" _Your_ ass," Jin mused. "That's what I was talking about."

The captain rolled his eyes but on the inside he was glowing. Jin probably knew, which is why he was taking advantage of the opportunity to embarrass him relentlessly. Everything between them had been so intense since their meeting on Jupiter Station, all those months ago. This was the first time they'd really had a moment to breathe, to mess around with one another properly and remind themselves that, yeah, they were soul-bonded; they were mated, they were older, so many things were different; hell, they were married. But they were also friends. They'd started out that way, and they were going to end that way as well, Namjoon was sure, many many many years into the future.

The captain reached out and Jin took his hand without hesitation, interlocking their fingers. "Come on," he said. "They'll start serving shortly and I don't want to miss out on the good stuff."

The doctor was nervous but he allowed Namjoon to pull him towards the water. When their feet were enveloped by warmth, Jin gasped. "It's almost like bathwater!"

"Yeah," the captain smiled. "It's actually warmer at night."

"How's that possible?"

"Climate control," Namjoon explained. "When the suns are hot and shining in the day, they lower the temperature of the beach-water so that it's refreshing for swimmers."

"Doesn't that irritate the eco-system, though?"

The captain shrugs. "I think they only do it at the resorts. I don't think they mess with it out further at sea, but to be honest I think I read that the whole planet is climate controlled. It's been that way for literal _centuries_ so I reckon they've got it down to an art-form, by now."

"Can't say I'm not enjoying it," the doctor admitted.

"See," Namjoon grinned. "Nothing to be afraid of."

The water was warm and silky smooth as the pair waded deeper and deeper. Soon they were enveloped to just below their chests, and though both suns had set and moons had risen, the water was illuminated from beneath with glowing blue lights that lit up the further they traversed. It was like wading through silk. That's how luxurion the water felt against the captain's skin. Warm and safe and inviting in a way that kind of reminded him of the blanket Jin had bought him for his birthday. Or maybe it was the doctor's presence. He couldn't exactly tell. Either way, it was lovely - the way they kept their fingers interlocked as the moved slowly through the water, just enjoying the sensation and each-other's presence, and their bond which was flourishing once again after what felt like so long.

"This is nice," Jin was the first to put voice to their shared feelings. "Would be good for skinny-dipping."

Namjoon's laugh filled the quiet evening air. "We could do that later, if you want?"

There was enough light to see the doctor's grin. "Nah, would rather just have you in the room, to be honest." Namjoon choked and Jin laughed at his reaction. "Maybe next time," the doctor mused.

Eventually they arrived at the ship. The mast and sails were covered with warm, glowing lights and the smell of freshly cooked food filled the air, so delicious that it was almost dizzying. As they were both helped out of the water by the crew, Namjoon could hear the clinking of glasses and the popping of champagne as slow, low music lilted through the air from towards the back of the ship.

It was mesmerizing. There was only space for six-or-so tables on the deck, and each one was laid out with pearlescent, gossamer fabric that swayed lightly in the air, catching the glow from the candles in the center of each setting, and reflecting the light in an array of different sheens. It was, frankly, the most romantic thing Namjoon had ever seen in his life. The food and the moons up above; the music and the intimacy, and Jin standing by his side, taking it all in with stars in his eyes and a small smile on his lips.

The doctor gave their names and a crew member led them across to a table, gave them thin robes with which to cover their wet skin, protecting them just enough that the the cool breeze didn't chill them, but not so much that they felt shielded from the soft, open air. They took their seats and ordered their drinks, gazing across at each-other and the open ocean and the perfection of every single moment as it passed them by. Time seemed to move at half-speed; neither of them were sorry about it.

It was only when Seokjin had a glass of champagne in his hand, clinking it softly against Namjoon's, the sweet sound of crystal filling the air, that he opened his mouth and breathed, "this is entirely perfect."

"I agree," Namjoon sighed. "It's better than I remember."

"Oh?" Seokjin asked.

"Wasn't with you last time, Imzadi."

The doctor rolls his eyes, but Namjoon doesn't miss the smile on his lips.

"I can't believe a place like this even exists. It's like I've stepped into a dream, or a holo-romance. Honestly it's taking my breath away. I'm having a hard time even stringing words together right now."

"We don't have to talk," Namjoon said. "I mean, we don't have to talk out-loud, if you want?"

The doctor gazed across at him. "I know that," he said. "I actually, um, like the sound of your voice, though."

"Really?" Namjoon gaped. "You've never said that before."

"Well," the doctor sighed, taking another long sip of champagne. "It's a little too sentimental for my taste, considering telepathy is obviously the superior form of communication."

"But you're feeling sentimental tonight," the captain laughed.

Jin grinned. "Wasn't there mention of this being our unofficial honey-moon?"

The captain looked across at him. "Is that what you want?"

"If it's what you want," the doctor offered.

"I want you," Namjoon said simply.

"Disgusting," Seokjin smiled. "But considering that it's our honey-moon, I'll allow it."

Namjoon tapped his pocket, just to make sure.

* * *

 

The food was orgasmic, the setting was glorious, and the company was... perfection.

Seokjin was, maybe, having the best night of his life.

The way his imzadi looked in the pale light of the moon, and the warm glow of the candle; the way that his cheeks flushed against the wine and he smiled so freely, tilting his head back and laughing loudly into the air every-time the doctor made a joke (even if it was a bad joke) was unimaginably lovely. Even Seokjin could feel blush spread through his cheeks; it wasn't something that he had to deal with often, considering that he was relatively shameless, but maybe tonight it was something to do with the wine, or Namjoon's purple-hue, or the sound of his voice that had the doctor flushing crimson.

Yeah, it was a perfect, perfect evening. So Seokjin was particularly shocked when he opened his mouth and said, point blank and without warning, "why did you leave me three years ago?"

Namjoon choked on an oyster.

"Shit, sorry, Imzadi," the doctor ran a hand across his face in mortification. "I don't know why I just said that. Fuck, um, just ignore me. Just, pretend that never happened."

When he was halfway recovered, still coughing slightly, Namjoon looked across at Jin with a serious expression. "We can talk about it if you want," he said.

The doctor closed his eyes. "No, that's okay. We don't have to. This night is too perfect to ruin."

Namjoon smiled  warmly. "If it's perfect, then nothing can ruin it. We're on our honey-moon, right? Isn't this the start of our next chapter? If anything I think we _should_ talk about it. I really wanna start fresh with you, Imzadi." Namjoon reached across the table and held out an open palm for Seokjin.

The doctor shifted in his seat so he could take Namjoon's hand and interlock their fingers. "I want that to," he admitted. "If I'm being honest, maybe it's the champagne, I dunno, but I am _curious_ , Imzadi. It's killing me, actually. I just - I wanna understand so badly. I want to know what I did wrong so I can never, ever do it again."

Namjoon sighed. "Jin, you - you didn't do anything wrong, okay? I -- God, where do I even start? It all feels so stupid now that I barely remember why I even did it in the first place."

Seokjin squeezed the captain's hand. "You know I wont be mad, right? I don't have a bone in my body or an iota of space in my brain that could be mad at you right now. I really just want to understand. I need you to help me understand, Namjoon."

"Okay," the captain breathed. "Okay well, I guess it all kind of started when Captain Riker contacted me and I turned him down."

"Turned him down?" Seokjin cocked his head. "But you left on the Enterprise?"

"Yes," Namjoon agreed. "I did leave on the Enterprise. But when Captain Riker contacted me it was for a position on the Sutherland. It was months before - before I left - and I turned him down straight away. Didn't even take a week to think it over... just said, 'thanks-but-no-thanks' and closed the book and that was that."

The doctor reeled. "What?" He gasped. "How did I not know this?"

The captain smiled sadly. "Because I went to great effort to keep it from you. Probably wouldn't have been able to any other time, but it was during your psych rotation at Starfleet medical, and you were kind-of not doing so hot at that stage."

Seokjin nodded slowly. "Yeah, of course, I remember that. Worst six months of my life. I was definitely not at the top of my game."

"Yeah," Namjoon agreed. "You were so stressed out, and you were so fucking _strung-out_ that I told myself I was doing you a favor but, if I'm being honest, looking back, I think keeping it a secret was just the easier option."

"Why did you turn it down?" The doctor asked.

Namjoon shrugged. "You," he said simply. "We'd been together for two-and-a-half years and it was the best two-and-a-half years of my life. I was so in love, so happy; everything felt so perfect that the idea that I needed anything more became... so foreign to me. All those ambitions that I'd had as a kid, as a cadet at the Academy, just evaporated. All that mattered to me was you - being with you, being around you, living my life with you: growing old with you. Our life at Starfleet headquarters was just so easy. My research position was enough that I felt mentally stimulated at work, and you were enough - more than enough - to fill up my life at home."

"We were happy," Seokjin said.

"Yeah, we were," the captain agreed. "We were so happy. But then, suddenly, everyone I knew was leaving for deep-space: my colleagues at work; my friends from the academy; Yoongi-hyung... everyone wrapped up their undergrads and their post-grads, and their research-positions, if they ever bothered at all, and accepted posts on far off starships. There I was, for the first time ever, waving good-bye to my best-friend and thinking to myself... 'wait... wasn't this my plan?', 'wasn't I supposed to 'boldly go where no-one has gone before?'': all that dumb Academy rhetoric that was drilled into us from day one." Namjoon ran a hand through his hair. "I didn't even feel like I'd made the wrong decision, you know? I think that was the issue more than anything. I found myself wondering 'shouldn't I be more worried about this?', 'shouldn't I be having some kind of existential crisis, like always?'. But I wasn't... I was so happy and I was so comfortable and _that's_ what did it in the end, I think."

"Yoongi never said anything?"

Namjoon shook his head. "Not a word. I mean, not that he had to, anyway. I knew he was... confused, by my decision. But as always he was respectful - irritatingly so - and just let me go on my merry-way without another word. Then the weeks turned into months and we were happy as ever and I was falling further and further behind all the people I knew and all the dreams I'd had. Then, one day you were asleep on my lap and I got a communique from Lieutenant Johnson - remember that asshole? - telling me that they'd made First-Contact with a new people somewhere at the edge of the Alpha Quadrant, and he was going to be the first human in Starfleet to learn their language. I tried to ignore it, but, actually it sent me into a fucking tail-spin."

The doctor sighed and squeezed Namjoon's hand for what felt like the thirtieth time. "That was always your dream, wasn't it?"

"Yeah," the captain confirmed. "Since I was accepted into the Academy at fourteen, it was my dream."

"You should have told me that this was all going on inside, Imzadi. I could've helped you."

Namjoon shook  his head. "What was I going to say to you, though? In a way _you_ had become my new dream and the idea of sitting you down and explaining that I'd practically forgotten something I'd wanted for my whole damn life because we got together, it just... felt fucking impossible. And I knew you'd blame yourself. I thought, maybe, that you'd even pack my bags for me and send me out, if you knew, and half of me was terrified of that idea, as well. I didn't want to leave you."

"But you did leave, eventually," Seokjin said, but it wasn't accusatory at all. Just a statement of fact.

"Yeah," Namjoon agreed. "Somehow I got it into my head that staying with you was the easy option. I didn't want to be the kind of man who took the easy way out. So when Admiral Picard contacted me and offered me a position aboard the Enterprise-E, I couldn't say no."

The doctor laughed, "I should've known that if any man was going to seduce you away from me, it was gonna be Admiral Picard."

"Yeah," the captain sighed. "You know I always idolized that man, right? Had his picture on my wall as a kid. Wanted so badly to be like him. He didn't have a family, didn't have children - didn't marry Doctor Crusher until he was, like, sixty. That bachelor Captain's life-style was something I always aspired to. I dunno why; it seems so stupid now. Why would I want to do all these things without you? It seems so fucking stupid that I thought I had to be alone to be valid as an officer, or a leader. I don't know how I got that idea into my head."

"You were always a little bit stupider than you appeared," the doctor mused, and Namjoon grinned across at him warmly.

"You were always the brains of the operation, Jin. Even if you let me believe it was me; I know now that you're the one that holds me together."

Seokjin blushed. "I love you, Imzadi," he said.

"I love you, too." Namjoon continued. "So I took the posting. Left telling you to the absolute last minute because I had no idea what the fuck I was going to say or do: whether you were going to support it, or try to talk me out of it... whether I was going to beg you to come, or try to leave you behind."

"I yelled at you."

"Yeah, you did." The captain grimaced. "I think we were both shocked. I think I expected that conversation to go in a whole other direction, and when it got so off track I didn't know how to bring it back and I just... ran away, instead. Like I already told you: only took me six days to realize how monumentally I'd fucked up, but by then I'd already convinced myself you'd never take me back, so I just hid. Pretty pathetic, right?"

The doctor felt himself shrug. "The bond is great but it makes everything so intense, y'know? I could feel what you were feeling, and you could probably feel what I was feeling and we were getting all caught up in each-other's feelings; I'm not surprised it turned out the way that it did. I didn't know you'd literally been struggling for months. I was just coming out of my psych rotation and I barely any space left for you..."

"Plus what happened with Tae," Namjoon offered.

"Shit, yeah, that was around that time too, wasn't it? Jesus Christ no wonder we were such a mess."

"Still my fault I left, though. I'm really sorry, Imzadi. You must've suffered so much because of me."

Seokjin shrugged. Yeah, he had suffered. Hadn't been able to stomach anything but strawberry ice-cream for three whole weeks. Cried enough to drown the whole of San Francisco. Missed his own mother desperately, for the first time since she'd passed. Had an achy body and cloudy mind that never seemed to clear or go away. Wanted Namjoon back. Wanted Namjoon back so badly that sometimes he couldn't breathe.

But he had Namjoon back. His Imzadi was right in front of him.

"Do you know what, Joonie?" The doctor smiled. "I'm glad I know what happened now... it just re-enforces for me how lucky we are to have found each-other. I've said it one-hundred times and I'll say it again. It really doesn't matter to me anymore. You've promised to stay by my side and I believe you. Now I'm promising to stay beside _you_. Living without you is... not an option, anymore. I know you're the captain of the ship and I'm the doctor, but realistically, Starfleet has no regulations against intra-crew fraternization, anyway. Not to mention you're my imzadi... that changes things, as well. It might be tricky but now that we're here, together, why don't we just, once and for all, swear to each-other that --"

"Marry me."

A long pause.

"W-What?"

"Marry me," Namjoon repeated. "Not just by default on Betazed, but for real. Let's go home and do the ceremony. We can have one on Earth and one on your home-world. Let's get all the paper-work together, and invite all our friends, and dress up and say the vows and swear to each-other in front of the whole fucking universe, Imzadi." The captain gets up from his seat and rounds the table, stopping in front of Jin, dropping down on one knee.

"Oh fuck --"

"Marry me," the captain says again.

And then his hand is in his pocket and he's pulling out a little box and Seokjin's heart is in his throat, beating so violently against his esophagus that he thinks he's going to be sick, or pass out and die. And then his imzadi is opening the box and there's a _ring_ inside and Betazoid's don't wear rings but it doesn't matter because this is Namjoon and this is a symbol of his love, and it's perfect and platinum and shining and he's _offering it_ to Seokjin.

"I love you, Kim Seokjin. I love you, Imzadi. Forever and always, no matter what fucking goes down. I'm useless and scared and clumsy and you're way too hot for me and you always have been but _I love you_ so much that I'm blinded by it. I can only see clearly if you promise to stay beside me forever. So, marry me. Please marry me, Imzadi."

And Jin's usual reaction is to make a gagging sound and tell Namjoon that he's being far too sentimental.

But he doesn't. He doesn't he doesn't do that.

Just like those holo-novels he hates so much, the doctor falls to his knees in-front of Namjoon and cries " _yes_ ," into the air, and throws his arms around the man's neck and the whole boat roars with approval and Namjoon picks him up and swings him around absurdly and Jin cries and laughs and the ring fits perfectly, and _they_ fit perfectly.

They fit perfectly together.

* * *

 

"Well, that was nice," Jimin mumbles, glancing across at Yoongi.

The Vulcan doesn't answer.

"At least, it would've been if you'd said more than three words to me during dinner."

That gets his attention.

"Jimin," the older-man breathes. "I am sorry, I did not mean to --"

"Yoongi... I -- something's going on, isn't it? I mean I might not be Taehyung or the doctor but I'm not an idiot. I was so excited for this.  I get that you're Vulcan and all, so maybe it isn't the same for you but I thought you were... at least, um, _interested_ in going out with me? I mean, I'm sorry if I overstepped but I thought we were, kind-of, on the same page, y'know? Did I do something wrong? D-Do you n-not l-like me?"

"Jimin," the commander breathes, and the lieutenant readies himself to be let down easy. "That's not it at all."

"That's okay, sir, I'll b -- wait, sorry, what?"

"I said, that's not it at all. Of course I like you. Haven't I made that clear?" The commander stops walking, and it takes Jimin a few steps to notice.

He turns around. "Well, yeah, I s'pose so, but - well - tonight was kind of, uh, _awful,_ Yoongi and I'm not really sure what to think."

The commander's nose scrunches up adorably, and Jimin feels momentarily disarmed. "Was it really that bad?" He asks.

The lieutenant scuffs his bare foot against the soft sand. "Well, you didn't even let me finish my wine before you up and left so, yeah, kind-of."

Yoongi brushes his hand through his hair and sighs loudly. "It has been a long time since I've done anything like this."

"Well, me too, but I wasn't sitting there staring off into the distance like I'd rather be _literally_ anywhere else."

Jimin's trying his best not to sound irritated. He really is. But something about the idea that Yoongi isn't interested in him - something about the fact that his mind is somewhere else (maybe on _someone_ else), makes the lieutenant's eye twitch.

"There, uh --" The commander clears his throat. "There is no where else I would rather be, Jimin. I only want to be here, with you."

Jimin's heart flips. "Then what is it, Yoongi? Because I feel the same, except you're light-years away, but I'm standing right beside you."

The lieutenant reaches out and takes Yoongi's hand. It's cooler than his own, as usual. His fingers are slack for a second but eventually they curl protectively around Jimin's smaller hand and the younger-man's heart goes hay-wire, again, as usual, and he just wants to throw himself at the Vulcan so badly that he almost doesn't bother to control himself. Maybe that's why this irks him so much. He wanted this night to be different. He wanted it to go _well_ because this is _Yoongi_ and he wants to be with him _so badly_ that the idea that maybe it won't work out is kind of horrifying. A nightmare, even.

"There is a decision I must make," the Vulcan says slowly. "It's hard to explain. Especially to a human... especially to you, who feels everything so deeply."

"You don't feel deeply?" Jimin asked him, trying to mask the fear in his voice.

"I haven't allowed myself for a long time," the commander admits quietly. "I haven't needed to. Then I find myself here, with you," the Vulcan looks out towards the sea, "and suddenly I have to consider some decisions of the past."

The lieutenant follows his gaze out towards the ocean. It's a shockingly lovely night. The air is warm and smells of tropical flowers; the sky is a twisted portrait of stars and the ocean is filling the night with a sweet sound and the romance is practically palpable. _That's Risa, though, isn't it,_ Jimin thinks to himself, and he wonders whether maybe he should've just taken the commander to the holodeck, instead. Start all of this slowly. Maybe he wasn't ready for this intense reality that zings between them in the night-time air.

"Yoongi," Jimin starts.

"Can we sit?" The Vulcan asks. "Can we sit down somewhere?"

"Yeah, uh, just on the beach?"

"Yes," the commander nods. "I like to be near the ocean."

They walk for a minute, still hand in hand, before they find themselves at an empty cove. There's large weathered rocks all around them, and the sea envelopes them gently each time a wave laps against the shore. There's nothing but palms and a sharp incline above them, which makes the whole thing feel quiet and secluded: intimate, as if they needed anymore of that type of energy. At this stage, Jimin feels so suffocated by the feelings in his chest that he's having a lot of trouble not voicing them.

_Jesus Christ, I like you!_

He just wants to yell it right into the commander's pointed ear.

"Sit here with me," Yoongi whispers, and Jimin lets the Vulcan pull him onto the sand.

He expects to be let-go, so when the commander pulls Jimin practically into his lap, encircling the younger man with his legs and arms and hooking his chin over his shoulder, the lieutenant isn't quite sure what to do.

"Do you know what the ' _Kolinahr'_ is, Jimin?" The lieutenant shakes his head. "It's a Vulcan ritual, obviously. Sort of like a coming-of-age ceremony, I suppose. Most children are expected to take part in the Kolinahr before the end of adolescence."

"What do you do?" Jimin asks quietly.

The commander lets out an amused breath. "It's long. It can talk up to six-Vulcan-months sometimes. I will spare you the details, but it is a very demanding right-of-passage whereby through intense meditation a Vulcan youth may purge themselves, finally, of all remaining emotion. Put simply, it is an oath: a commitment to the Vulcan way of logic, forever."

"Wow," the lieutenant breathes. "So once you've done it you can never really feel emotions again?"

"It is a bit more complicated then that but, yes, I suppose. Once you submit yourself to the Kolinahr the Vulcan people believe one enters into a higher state of consciousness where all latent emotions are purged and only logic remains."

"And you did this?" The lieutenant feels his heart sink.

Yoongi is quiet for a long moment. He sighs, long and deep. "I was engaged, to be married, on Vulcan a long time ago."

Wow. That's unexpected.

"Y-You were?" The lieutenant stutters. He tries to turn around to face the commander, but the older-man's arms lock him in place.

"Yes. Her name was T'Pau. We were childhood friends - I knew her, practically, since birth."

"Y-Yoongi I d-don't understand, w-why you're telling me this?"

Frankly, Jimin didn't want to know about Yoongi's romantic life before him. Sure, he had his own past, but everyone paled in comparison to what he felt towards the commander; the idea that the Vulcan had been in such a close relationship that he had gone so far as to get _engaged,_ kind of stings a little. It's completely irrational. But it stings.

"We were both very young but we were _happy_ to be together. Arranged marriages are very common within Vulcan culture: two children are promised to one-another during infancy, and the relationship is consummated at early-adulthood. The fact that we were also paired through _love_ was rare and exciting. Our families were old friends, they got along well: she was the daughter of a priest and I of a scientist so, that too, was unexpected and convenient. It was all supposed to work out. Seemed to be going very smoothly. We had plans to finish at the Vulcan Academy of Science, then we would cement the union, spend a year together on Vulcan as custom dictates, before finding posting aboard a vessel of science." The commander laughed. "Of course you are not supposed to consummate the union until _after_ the marriage ritual, though, like I said we were young and we were in love; we wanted to show that love to one another in which-ever way we could."

Jimin bit his lip. Of course he hadn't assumed the commander was a _virgin_ , though hearing him discuss his previous sexual relationship with some random Vulcan chick that he was obviously _desperately_ in love with wasn't a particularly fun way to cement the lieutenant's considerations.

"But, then, of course, at seventeen years old the Kolinhar was dawning and I was half-human and didn't understand why it was entirely necessary, and T'Pau's father was a priest so her ideas diverged from my own quite - quite substantially, actually. She was a lot like you, really. Small but strong and almost painfully intelligent. She had a softness when it came to the difficulties of other's and a laugh that used to make my father's right-eye twitch. That's what I liked most about her, actually. Her laugh." The commander sighs. "She was different after the Kolinhar. Didn't seem to care about anything except for _logic,"_ he spat the word, "didn't worry about the words she said, whether they would harm others; she didn't laugh anymore - not even once, after she came back. Once I saw the change I was... reluctant to follow through. As much as I respected the Vulcan way, as far as I tried to commit to our teachings and beliefs, I was also... fond of my more human qualities. If it were possible, I would say that T'Pau grew _angry_ with me. She insisted that I go through with the ritual if we were to be married."

"So you did it, then?"

"No," Yoongi _laughs_. "No, I'm not sure if you've noticed but I'm kind of trash at the whole 'no-feelings' thing. I refused to go through with the ceremony and T'Pau ended our union. She didn't tell anyone - if I'm honest I think she was embarrassed. She did black-mail me into leaving Vulcan, though. Said she would tell my father what I'd done if I didn't. At that stage I had no relationship with my mother, no-where to go, the idea of my father never speaking to me again was the most frightening thing I'd ever considered. So I withdrew from the Vulcan Academy and told my parents I was leaving for Earth. I knew they would not approved, but I figured they'd get over it. If they knew I did not submit to the Kolinhar though... they'd never recover from that knowledge."

"Wow," Jimin breathed, wrapping his arms across the commander's. "That's, um, really intense, Yoongi... but I still don't u-understand, I guess, why you're telling me..."

"Do you know that Vulcans are, by nature, emotionally volatile?"

The lieutenant shook his head. "I've only ever met the super, stoic, logical kind."

"It's the reason that we conform so strictly to the rule of logic. Everyone's terrified of falling back into the old way, so we suppress our emotions because it is... easier, I suppose."

"I understand that," Jimin considered. "I think I was doing that for a really long time, as well."

"Yeah," Yoongi agreed, "I think we both were. I suppose the reason I'm telling you is because... if we're going to, um, be _together_ , I don't want you to be confused by me. I know that I seem cold and... distant, most of the time. I know that it's hard to put up with, especially when you are _i-involved_ romantically. I g-guess what I'm trying to communicate, maybe as ineloquently as, perhaps, possible, is that, um, when it comes to you, Jimin, I cannot suppress these feelings that I feel. I don-don't even want to. It's frightening and I don't know what will happen if I allow myself to let go, but I - I think I took you to that disastrous dinner to tell you that I _want_ to let go, with you, fo-for the first time since I left Vulcan, I wa-want to _feel_ aga --"

Jimin twisted and silenced the commander with their very first kiss.

For a moment the Vulcan was unresponsive. His lips were slack and motionless against Jimin's even though the poor Chief of Security was giving it everything he had; letting all those _feelings_ that he'd been pushing to the back of his mind come forward into his mouth as he moved it slowly against the commander's.

But it was just for a moment. Less than a moment, even. Jimin wasn't sure what the Vulcan had got up to during his time with T'Pau all those years ago, but he'd definitely learnt _something._

Yoongi wrapped his arms securely around Jimin's waist, twisting the younger man to face him almost entirely. His strong hands were flat against Jimin's back, pressing firmly into his skin as his lips slid across the lieutenant's in the most delicious, toe-curling lick he'd ever experienced in his life. Soon enough their chests were flush together and Jimin was on his knees between the older-mans legs, pressing his fingers into Yoongi's thick, dark hair, clawing against his scalp, trying to bring him _closer_ into his mouth so he could just taste more of him.

Their lips parted and Jimin sucked in a shaky breath. Yoongi's tongue was at the edge of his lip, tasting tentatively, seeming to ask for permission in the most maddening way. The lieutenant gave it by meeting the Vulcan's tongue with his own, and soon they were swirling together, all lips and skin and wine and hands against flesh; gasping desperation coming from both ends because it's been _months_ and they liked each-other _so much_ and they'd been inside each-others _minds_ so in a way this felt chaste.

And in a way it it didn't. Especially when Yoongi's teeth captured Jimin's bottom lip and _bit down_ with enough force to elicit a whine caught somewhere between pleasure and pain, just the way the lieutenant liked it.

Maybe that sound threw Yoongi over the edge, because before Jimin could even really consciously make a note, his back was against the sand and Yoongi's hips were rolling into his and this was _so unexpected from fucking Commander Min but yes, please, keep going until I **come**_ _, and then give me even more._

" _Jimin_ ," the commander groaned against the lieutenant's lips, and the dark, cloudy gravel of his voice was practically enough to throw the younger-man off the proverbial edge. " _You're so fucking perfect, Jimin,"_ the Vulcan whispered. 

And shit, the sound of profanity coming out of _Yoongi's_ mouth was entirely erotic in nature, and the lieutenant was so gone for him that if he even had half a brain cell left inside his cranium he might tell the Commander he's falling in love with him right here, right now.

And he is, he definitely is.

He wraps his arms around Yoongi's neck and uses his substantial strength to close the gap between their chests. The kiss is even _closer,_ with all parts of their bodies touching, from their foreheads to their feet, which are wrapped around each-other in the sand. Even as the eroticism ebbs away, the passion does not, and soon Yoongi is kissing Jimin so deep and so slow that his toes are curling, and his legs are wrapping around the older-man's waist in an effort to meld their bodies how the Vulcan might meld their minds.

And soon enough they're just holding each-other. Chests flush and bodies pressed into the sand. Yoongi's ear against Jimin's chest, listening to the ocean and his heart-beat while the lieutenant runs his lips across the Vulcan's cool forehead, stroking through his soft hair from time to time whenever the feeling comes to him.

They stay like that for a long while.

"Sorry I ruined dinner," Yoongi breathes, eventually.

Jimin smiles. "Just don't ruin dessert," and he leans down to capture his lips once more.

* * *

 

 When drunk, Taehyung should come with a warning sign.

When sober, he's moderately aware of how attractive he is - but after three shots of some bright green liquor that tastes mildly like grass, the empath is entirely conscious of the fact that he could be Adonis reborn, and he isn't particularly reserved about flaunting it either.

From anyone else's lips it might be an overshoot to suggest that everyone in this club wants him. But he _knows_. He can sense it every-time a pair of eyes flash across him. He's the best looking creature they've every seen. They want to put their hands all over him. He's a figure of lust and desire and the way that his dark irises reflect the blue light is slightly unfair and maddening to everyone around him. It was not necessary to wear the satin shirt that hangs off of his shoulder; it was not necessary to style his hair as if he'd just had the fuck of his life.

He could've come in his pajamas and it wouldn't've made a difference. He'd still be driving everyone wild.

Fucking sucks to be them.

Taehyung may be in incubus at heart,  but he's an incubus with tunnel vision.

There's someone in the club he wants.

Just one person, and he's about one sniff of tequila away from slipping onto the dance-floor and just fucking _taking_ them.

Because when he's sober, Taehyung is moderately aware of how attractive Jungkook is. But after three shots of some bright green liquor that tastes mildly like grass, the empath is entirely conscious of the fact that his imzadi could be Adonis reborn, and the way that the younger-man leans his head back, eyes closed as the music moves him, is doing nothing for the empath's self control.

There's some deep-house track playing over the significant sound-system; it's thumping against Taehyung's chest and making him feel slightly more unhinged than usual. It's making him flash dark and hot and he just wants to commit _sin_ tonight. He's tired of restraining himself, honestly. He just wants to claw at Jungkook's naked flesh, and fuck him and kiss him and make the young-man see God for the first time in his life. Maybe after they're all fucked out, he'll confess. He's not sure. He just _wants what he wants_ and he's finding it particularly difficult to feel sorry about it.

Laws be damned; safety be damned. Taehyung's a creature of instinct tonight - that's how he's feeling. 

So he takes the fourth shot even though his vision is already sufficiently blurred, and the liquid scorches down his throat and makes him feel _hotter_ and more alive and more _sure_ that there's only one thing he needs to do tonight and that's Jungkook. He's gonna bring Jungkook to the edge and maybe push him over, but that's cool: they're gonna fall together. Just before they reach the bottom Taehyung's gonna save him. Jungkook comes out of this alive. Maybe Taehyung doesn't.

He's drunk; who cares.

The empath slides onto the dance-floor with his eyes locked on Jungkook's body. There's something about how the other man dresses when he's out of his uniform. Dark pants and a dark shirt against his tan skin and his dark hair. Of course he can move - he's a dancer after-all. But so is Taehyung, so maybe the recipe for success is the way they're going to move together when the older-man reaches him and runs his claws across his chest.

He's gonna kiss Jungkook tonight. He's fucking waited. He's gonna kiss him until they're both fucking _raw_.

The younger-mans eyes are still closed so he doesn't even see Taehyung. The elder laughs against some shitty analogy of predator and prey and how Jungkook doesn't even _see him coming_. But just before he reaches him, his imzadi's eyes flash open and lock on the empath's lithe form, filling with something cloudy that makes the elder's inside twist uncomfortably with something that isn't _just_ lust.

His mind whispers something which he ignores.

Jungkook holds his hand out to Taehyung and the empath takes it easily, running his hands up Jungkook's hot flesh until his long fingers are inside the other's hair, pulling the younger towards him. Jungkook usually flashes orange when Taehyung's around but tonight, as the empath brings them chest to chest on the dance-floor, he's _red_. Jungkook must be drunk as well because he's filthy tonight. The loves still there, of course, Jungkook loves him in all moments, but tonight he's less reserved in his _need_ for Taehyung. It's emotional and physical and piping fucking hot and it feels _so good_ as it runs through the empath's consciousness.

Jungkook _belongs_ to him. So many people in the room want him - want _them -_ but they belong to _each other_.

Fuck everyone else, to be honest.

Taehyung pulls his lips to Jungkook's ear. _"Imzadi,"_ he whispers the word against the younger-man's flesh and delights in the shiver that runs up and down his body, despite the heat.

It's the first time Taehyung's said that word. He hadn't even meant to. He'd fully intended to say something uncomfortably sweet like, 'hey Jungkookie', but imzadi tumbled out instead and something in the back of his head screams that it's _too much,_ but he's too drunk to care. Too high off the sound and the smell and the sight of his mate to give a shit what that word probably means.

 _It means everything,_ his mind tells him. Which isn't really the problem. The problem is in the fact that Taehyung responds, _I know,_ and doesn't feel scared that he's just admitted something drastic to himself. 

He's drunk; he'll deal with it later.

"Taehyung," Jungkook says in return.

"I want you," Taehyung says, not bothering to beat around the bush, because, hell, the way he's grinding against Jungkook's body is probably enough of an indication, anyhow.

"You're drunk," Jungkook says.

"Don't you want me?" The empath grins, his nose glancing against the younger-mans jaw.

"You know that I do."

Jungkook's voice is so steady and sure. He doesn't stutter or sound bashful and if that isn't Taehyung's newest kink, then he doesn't know anything anymore. His imzadi's hands are inching away from his waist, towards hips and lower, maybe, if he's lucky. He's running his hands across the younger man's neck and shoulders, his strong arms, until he reaches his hands, giving them a gentle push towards the curve of his ass.

"You wanna touch?" Taehyung licks against his ear. "Everyone in here wants to touch, but I'm just for you, Imzadi."

He's pretty sure those words make Jungkook's eyes roll into his skull, by the way his mind explodes with an arousal so intense that the empath's surprised he doesn't get hard in his pants.

"Jesus Christ, Taehyung," Jungkook pants, but he takes the elder's plush cheeks into his hands anyway and gives him a firm squeeze. "Jesus Christ, what am I doing."

"Exactly what I want," Taehyung laughs.

"You're teasing me," his imzadi says. "You're teasing me on purpose, baby."

" _Baby_..." The empath tests out the nickname on his tongue. "Like it when you call me that," he decides.

"How 'bout _imzadi_ , then?"  Jungkook lifts his lips to Taehyung's ear, his teeth glancing against the lobe. " _My Imzadi,"_

Maybe Taehyung gives himself away when he _moans_ but, again: 

He's drunk - lay off, okay?

"You like that," Jungkook says, and it's more a surprised statement than a question. "Shit, you _like_ it."

"Say it again," Taehyung whines, because he's so fucking starved of this that he can't hold back. His body needs the word - his mind _craves it_ and he's so tired of trying to convince himself that it isn't true.

" _Imzadi,"_ Jungkook kisses against the empath's jaw. He switches to his other ear. " _Imzadi,_ " he says again.

" _God_ ," Taehyung chokes.

He claws at Jungkook's neck until their mouths crush against one-another and the contact brings less relief than he hopes. Instead, Taehyung weaves around Jungkook's entire form as his mind screams _more_ , and despite the setting and the alcohol and the music, kissing Jungkook is unbearably sweet and romantic and erotic and everything that it should _be_. There's no lie in Jungkook's kiss; there's no compulsion in the way his thumb coaxes at the corner of Taehyung's jaw, beckoning his mouth open so that the younger can lick into him. There _is_ lust between them, there's want and desire, but there's also protection and care in the way that Jungkook's free hand supports Taehyung's body as he sags from the effort.

All these new colors and scents and sounds make Taehyung dizzier than he's ever been in his life; when he realizes the reason why, it almost knocks him off his feet. Purple explodes around him as his own blue light mixes with the unhindered red of his imzadi, and Taehyung can see his own roses blossom and his love is almost black in the edges because that's the color of his own eyes when he takes in Jungkook. That person who is his perfect match in every way.

Does he need to fear the inky color anymore, if that's what it means?

"Taehyung," Jungkook pants, pulling away, catching the empath's cheek with his hand. "Are you okay, imzadi?"

"Yes," the elder breathes, licking his lips to try and savor the _flavor_ of Jungkook's kiss. "I'm f-fine, why?"

"You're eyes, my love. They've turned."

Taehyung immediately drops his gaze to the floor, allowing his fringe to fall over his brow and shield him.

"Hey, hey," Jungkook coos, somehow, over the thump of the music. "What are you doing? Don't have to hide from me."

It takes a second, but through his own horror, Taehyung feels Jungkook. There's uncertainty there, mostly for the empath's welfare: but the thing he feels the most is... arousal.

Taehyung frowns. "Do you - wait, I'm - sorry, do you... I don't understand what I'm feeling."

"Hey," Jungkook puts a finger under the older man's jaw, lifting him upward. Taehyung can't avoid his gaze, and the pair lock eyes.

Another burst of white-hot _need_.

The older man blinks. "Y-You _like_ this?" He asks. "Every time you see my eyes there's this --"

"Uh," Jungkook laughs. "Don't say it out-loud, God."

"I don't get it," he looks away from Jungkook, trying to hide the inky-eyes. "Fuck, I must be fucking _off-it_ to think you want me like this."

"Y-You're not," Jungkook cringes. "Sorry, is that super uncomfortable. Jesus, sorry," he bites his lip, running a hand through his hair.

Taehyung looks up at him, one more time, just to check.

Yup. There is is.

"Holy _shit_ ," the empath breathes. "You're not scared of me at all, you filthy boy. I've been fucking horrified I was gonna turn on you all this time, but you fucking like me like this, don't you? You find me _more_ attractive like this." The idea is a little sobering, actually. "Jesus this is brand new, I don't know how I feel about it."

"Fuck, I'm so sorry. Oh God, everything was going to well, and I've fucked it up, haven't I?" Jungkook practically drops Taehyung and skids off the dance-floor so fast that the elder almost can't catch up.

"Jungkook, stop!" He yells after the younger when they're both outside of the club. "Seriously, Jungkook, why are you so fucking fast! Can you slow down, fuck!" When he finally reaches the younger, he wraps an arm around his bicep and pulls him to a stop. "Seriously, Jungkook! Of all the fucking times you're gonna race away, now is really not conven --"

His imzadi kisses him again. This time a little more forcefully, which is surprising because they're no longer grinding against each-other on a sweaty, sex-laden dance-floor. Now, they're outside in the open air as Jungkook doesn't hesitate to force his mouth open, tongue running across his lips until Taehyung meets it with his own, leaning flush against the younger-man, practically submitting to Jungkook even though that isn't his deal, and he's taller and he's older and the little, stuttering, ensign should definitely not be getting his way like this.

Taehyung moans again. Fucking betrayal of his own body, if you ask him, but it just feels so good to have Jungkook wrapped around him: he's equal parts aroused, and protected, and loved to the point that it's almost overwhelming. He'd gone into this hoping the memories would be foggy in the morning, but realistically how's he supposed to forget _this_. No amount of alcohol in the world could wipe the feeling of Jungkook nipping against his lips, or pecking against his flesh.

He never thought anything could equal the type of ecstasy he feels at the helm of a starship, executing a complicated maneuver that only _he,_ Kim Taehyung, in the whole of the goddamn Universe can pull-off.

And yet Jungkook's pulling it off. Kissing Taehyung is the maneuver and his imzadi is _pulling it off_.

What's it gonna be like when they _fuck?_

Jungkook pulls away.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Taehyung, I _heard that_ _!_ Holy shit I heard that - fuck. You thought that, not me, I'm fucking _sure of it_!"

"Didn't say anything," the empath mumbles, already ducking forward towards Jungkook's lips again.

"Fuck, no, Tae. This has to stop _now._ " The younger-man runs his hands through his hair and actually takes a _step back_. "Remember when I said I wouldn't get confused? I didn't expect you to fucking _launch_ yourself at me, Imzadi. Fuck - honestly fucking shit, fuck, fuck - you are _confusing_ me, right now. Why are you doing this?"

"I'm confused!" Taehyung actually stomps his foot against the ground like a six-year-old. "Why are **you** like this?" He yells. "Why do you look like that, and kiss like that, and say all the right things, and know exactly what I need, and make me feel loved and push me right to the fucking edge until I can't _breathe_ anymore!" He runs his hands across his face and the euphoria passes as quickly as it came and his stomach sinks right down to the floor. "Why do you have to make me _love you like this?"_

_Fuck._

He had not planned to say **that _._**

Fuck he had _not_ planned for this to happen. 

He's not even drunk enough for _this_ to be happening, right now.

He tries to turn on his heel, flee from Jungkook, hopefully trip over in his inebriated state and knock his head against a rock and die on the spot right then and there. If nothing else, maybe he could fall into a coma. A really long coma where, when he wakes up, eight years have passed and he can feign ignorance: pretend this whole night got washed away by the memory loss.

He's not fast enough, though. Jungkook catches him.

"Kim Taehyung, no fucking way. Not tonight you intolerable asshole. I've given you all the space in the _universe_ over the last  three weeks; do you know how much fucking self-restraint I've used? I've had too many fucking mojitos tonight to give a shit about your half-assed excuses. I'm not afraid of you leaving me anymore, because to be honest you hurt me so goddamn much every day that, at this point, I'm pretty sure dying might actually be the better option so --"

"No, Jungkook, no," Taehyung's voice takes on a sharp edge. "You - you can't say shit like that to me. You can't say those words to me, you have no fucking idea what it does inside my body when you say those things --"

"Then fucking _tell_ me, for once, Taehyung! Tell me what you're fucking thinking instead of leaving me to fucking guess like a pathetic asshole! I'm not your fucking boyfriend, or a one-night stand, and I'm not just your _friend,_ Kim Taehyung. I am your _soulmate_ , you intellectual _reprobate_ , and I'm so fucking _done_ with you treating me like a second class citizen!" Jungkook is _mad_. He's actually _furious_ , and Taehyung has never seen this side of him before. He doesn't feel threatened, but watching Jungkook try to catch his breath through his anger makes his tummy turn upside-down in a way he doesn't expect. "Why can't I say those things to you, huh? What the fuck do you care?!"

Taehyung stammers, he can't collect his thoughts when he's this drunk and Jungkook is so close and he can still taste his _lips_. "I - I t-told you m-my body h-hurts when y-you're not n-near me --"

"No," Jungkook says, grasping Taehyung by the shoulders and shaking him a little. "No, fuck you! I heard you before, Taehyung. I heard what you said to me before! Stop lying to yourself and stop fucking lying to _me_ and tell me why I shouldn't just, fucking, drown myself, huh?"

"Th-that's not f-fair! you know I w-would say anything to s-save you. You r-really wanna h-hear it b-because you f-forced it out o-of me?"

"Fuck!" Jungkook yells, his head drooping. "Fuck I'm - I'm just so fucking _tired_ of this. I'm just so fucking _tired_ of feeling so happy and so fucking _destroyed_ when I'm next to you. I used to be a happy kind-of person, you know? Fine, I was anxious as hell, but I was working on it - I was fucking getting somewhere. S-Started dancing again," Jungkook chokes on the word ' _dancing'_ and Taehyung's heart starts to panic. "F-Found you a-after so long. Thought it w-was a f-fucking miracle. Th-thought it was a miracle, f-finding you again."

The empath pauses. "F-Finding me again? Jungkook w-what are you talking about?"

The younger-man laughs and it's caught somewhere between a cackle and a sob. "I-In the Academy, y-you were too p-popular to know about a k-kid like me, right? B-But I knew about y-you. Joined f-flight team for y-you. G-Got m-my anxiety sorted so I c-could get into Nova-Squad b-because I had s-such a crush on you. W-Watched all your vids. C-Cried my eyes out w-when you made the K-Kolvoord Starb-burst. K-Knew you c-could do it b-but the way you made your t-team smile a-after. M-Made my h-heart f-fucking ache. F-Fell i-in l-love with you r-right th-then and there."

Taehyung gapes. "Th-that's impossible, we - we hadn't even _met_ , Jungkook."

The younger-man was straight up crying, hiding his face in his own arm. "I - I know, s-stupid right? T-Tried to i-introduce myself o-once but I was t-too sh-shy. You just breezed r-right past me. Didn't even l-look at me."

"Jungkook," Taehyung says with a steady tone. "That's impossible."

"W-Well th-that's what h-happened. H-Haven't y-you ever s-seen someone, h-heard someone's v-voice and just fallen f-for them straight away?"

Taehyung shakes his head. "No, you're - you're not understanding me. I didn't see _you_ Jungkook, so there's no way my powers could've a-affected you, at all, so you c-couldn't've loved me."

The younger man snorts. "W-Well then you b-better call m-my Academy roommate and t-tell 'em a-all those t-times he made fun of me for t-talking about y-you were just a p-part of his imagination."

"Jungkook," Taehyung breathes. "You're - you're telling me the truth, right? Y-You wouldn't lie to me about t-this would you?"

"W-Why would I t-tell you the most embarrassing story of m-my en-entire life i-if it w-wasn't even t-true. As i-if I needed to m-make myself more p-pathetic in your eyes."

"Jungkook - you - Jesus Christ, um, h-holy f-fuck," and then Taehyung's crying too. He can't even blame the alcohol, really.

_He loves me for real._

_He loves me for real._

_He loves me for real.  
_

_He loves me for real._

_"Christ Jungkook you love me for real."_

Taehyung is about to _collapse._ He thinks the thought and for the first time there's not even an iota of doubt niggling angrily in the back of his mind. If Jungkook had loved Taehyung before the empath even knew he was _alive,_ then there was no way he'd been affected by his power. There was no way the half-betazoid had succeeded with Jungkook where he'd failed with Mitchell. There was no way this bond was something that Taehyung built himself - something he forced on Jungkook even though the hadn't consciously meant to. 

Jungkook loved him.

His imzadi loves him

And it's _real_.

"Oh my God, Imzadi," Taehyung latches onto Jungkook's frame before he topples over and though the younger-man is still hiding away in his sleeve, he circles his arms protectively around Taehyung and takes his weight against him.

"Y-You called me i-imzadi again, Tae. J-Just stop, a-alright? I - I can t-take a lot for y-you but that's t-too much."

"No, no, Jungkookie, I - I won't stop." The empath cries into his ear, cupping Jungkook's face inside his hands, forcing the younger man to look at him. "Imzadi," he says again, and younger-man closes his eyes against the sound. "Imzadi I've wasted so much time, haven't I? I've been so stupid. B-But I - I - shit - _I love you,_ okay? Since the second you walked over to navigation and put those coordinates into the computer and our hands touched, I've l-loved you." Jungkook's eyes remain closed. "W-When you p-punched t-that asshole in the face, I l-loved you. W-When you walked out of the holodeck after that f-first dance practice, and your eyes were s-so alive and you b-bangs were stuck to your head: th-that was the first time I realized it consciously. Y-You remember I r-reached out and p-pushed your hair b-back. I didn't mean to. I didn't mean to, I just couldn't stop m-myself. Y-You were like this p-perfect creature that the Universe had m-made just for me and I thought 'I love this man' and I didn't e-even know w-why b --"

"Taehyung," Jungkook warns, and his voice is thick and strained.

"But I tried to ignore it. I really tried s-so hard because I didn't want to hurt you. B-But then we came here to Risa, remember? And Jimin said we should c-come down together and I said it i-in front of everyone because I w-wanted to go down w-with you but you didn't o-offer but then Jimin suggested it and you s-said yes and it was the b-best day of my life. The first d-day I got to spend with the man I love. Y-You were staring at your toes through the water and I just w-wanted to know what you were thinking because you h-had this _longing_ inside and I just h-had to touch you again to check whether i-it was me."

"P-Please s-stop,"

"W-When you k-kissed me the first time I was three-seconds away form losing my self-control a-and just taking you in because I l-loved you so much, already. M-My lips burned for hours a-after. They _burned,_ Imzadi, l-like you branded me."

"Taehyung, if y-you, if you d-don't say it then I th-think I'm g-going to die, this time. S-So stop, i-if you're n-not going to say it."

Jungkook has been holding Taehyung at arms reach, but the empath pushes past his significant strength and bundles him close.

"I love you," he whispers. "Imzadi, I love you."

"You're drunk," Jungkook chokes. "Y-You won't say this t-tomorrow."

"I will," Taehyung presses his lips to Jungkook's forehead. "I will because I love you, Imzadi. Think I've loved you since before that first flash of light when the universe began."

"I love you," Jungkook whispers so low that Taehyung strained to hear. "D-Don't break my h-heart again, _please_ , Imzadi."

The empath kisses against his lips. "I won't, Imzadi. I promise I won't." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was supposed to be smut in this chapter, but tbqh, I just wasn't feeling it. I was all about romance. So, next chapter. Morning sex? I dunno. Which couple's gonna hit it first? Sound off in the comments. 
> 
> Also sorry for no Hope. He didn't fit. I'll deal with him later.


	12. Chewing Ice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I made you wait so long for smut. Suggest you take a nice cup-of-tea into a dark corner of your bedroom and lock the door and just have some 'me' time. You're welcome. Holy Water an extra 99c - I'm not running a charity, folks.
> 
> Also, the house next door to me was genuinely playing Christian rock while I wrote this homoerotic nonsense. Like, praise be. If the Universe ain't trying to tell me something, I dunno.
> 
> I need Jesus, y'all.

Jungkook wakes, muscles coiled, body shivering, covered in a thin layer of cold sweat.

It only means one thing.

Nightmare.

Taehyung's gone.

It's not fair that even his unconscious mind has such a visceral reaction to the absence of his imzadi. The ensign would like to be left alone in his sleep, if nothing else: if he's going to suffer for 16 out of 24, would eight hours of respite be too much to ask? Eight whole hours of unconsciousness where he doesn't have to miss Taehyung so desperately that his brain needs to conjure up terrible images to to rationalize the heavy loss that he feels?

The ensign rolls onto his back, wiping a cold hand across his face, freeing his sweaty bangs from his forehead. Opening his eyes a fraction and taking in the dim blue ambient he knows it must still be morning. He's got an immeasurable head-ache and his throat is dry. He can still taste stale liquor on his tongue and his muscles feel tight and lethargic. He needs to stretch but it hurts to even exist, right now. His whole body is a mess of tension and he can't tell if he's too hot or too cold - he just feels _uncomfortable_.

He needs Taehyung.

He closes his eyes.

"Computer, lights."

The ambient blue is replaced with an unsympathetic white that burns even behind Jungkook's closed lids. He takes a couple of shallow breaths and hopes that the thumping in his temple might ease up some, the further from sleep he travels. He peaks out from behind his lashes and the unhindered light is like a knife right through his cranium. His shift starts at seven, and if he's woken up before the alarm maybe he'll have time to go to sick-bay and get himself a hypospray for the headache; it might allow him to sit through his eight-hour shift without perishing entirely. To be honest, that's his only goal right now.

Fucking survive.

"Computer, what's the time?" He groans.

" **It is currently eleven-hundred hours, ship's time**."

Jungkook sits up.

"What the fuck?" He chokes. "Computer, time?"

" **It is currently eleven-hundred hours and one minute, ship's time**."

"Holy fuck, computer! What the fuck! What the fuck happened to the alarm?!"

" **The alarm was disabled at oh-six-hundred hours**."

"By _who?"_

" **The alarm was disabled at oh-six-hundred hours by Lieutenant Kim Taehyung**."

"Fucking _why_ _?"_

" **There is an audio recording. Confirm playback**."

"Confirm, computer. Play it."

Jungkook steels himself.

" _G'morning Imzadi!"_ Taehyung's contagious giggle fills the quiet quarters, and the ensign's heart is already lodged inside his esophagus. _"You're probably wondering why I disabled the alarm, right? Well, you were sleeping so soundly that I didn't have the heart to wake you. I spoke to the commander and convinced him to let me take your shift. It's been a while since I've sat at the conn, but I figure it can't be that hard... I mean if_ you're _doing it every day then it must be easy."_ Another peel of laughter. " _Just kidding, baby, I know you're ten times smarter than I'll ever be. I love that about you."_ The audio pauses for a long moment, and Jungkook can hear Taehyung sigh. _"Sorry, I'm just watching you sleep all curled up like that and it's really fucking with my resolve to go to work. Just wanna get back into bed with you... hold you... ah, fuck. Why are you so cute? It's like, fucking distracting."_ The way Taehyung laughs, Jungkook can almost see him lean his head towards the ceiling, dark eyes forming into adorable crescents. _"Anyway, I went to sick bay and got you a hypospray. You must feel fucking awful. We weren't drinking synthehol last night. I haven't had a hangover like this since my eighteenth birthday on Betazed. Whatever the doctor loaded for us helps with the head-ache a bit but honestly, the best cure is food and water and sleep! I programmed breakfast into the replicator for you, so you can just throw that on when you're hungry. Have that hypospray and drink some water and take a nap, alright? That way I'll be back with you before you know it, and we can do something fun tonight. Y'know without all the drunken confessions and crying and stuff? We must've looked straight out of a holonovel.... How do you feel about bowling? That's a fun date idea, right?"_ There's another pause, and some more shuffling. _"Shit, I should probably go. Ah, don't want to though. Could just stare at you all day. Is that creepy? Hope you don't have any nightmares while I'm gone, but there's not many people on the ship anyway, so if you need me you can just call. Eight hours really isn't that long! I'll be back soon. Miss you already. Love you so much, my gorgeous Imzadi. Taehyungie, out."_

Jungkook can't breath.

His fists ball up in his lap and his eyes dart around the room desperately, searching for something, anything, to prove that he's awake.

Because Taehyung isn't like this. Taehyung doesn't do sweet things for him; doesn't think about him, or care about him enough to switch their shifts, and get him a hypospray and program breakfast into the replicator. Taehyung doesn't call him imzadi, and tell him he loves him; Taehyung _tolerates_ him. Last night he'd said a lot of things Jungkook wanted to hear, but he'd been drinking - he'd been desperate to touch, maybe to the point where he would've said anything to get Jungkook to let him in.

It wouldn't've taken much.

So he must still be dreaming. It must be one of those nightmares where you wake in your room with a start, hoping and praying that it's over, only to be terrorized once again by some invisible boogie-man that hides under the bed.

But this all seems so _real_. The way Jungkook's breathing is so heavy that it _hurts_ ; the way his nails dig into the soft flesh of his palms; the way that the tips of his fingers and toes start to go all fuzzy before they lose their feeling altogether.

Yeah, the way Jungkook is panicking definitely feels real, and yet he doesn't wake up. He isn't shaken free from the nightmare, for the second time, he's held there: shackled inside the terror, waiting to fall, begging for a relief that never comes.

Taehyung never comes to catch him when he's falling.

_"Imzadi, what's going on? Are you okay?"_

No, he's not okay. Everything's spinning and he can barely see straight anymore. His brain is on fire and salt water is stinging his cheeks, and all he can do is sob through each breath that comes to fast and too deep - too desperate.

_"Jungkook, what's happening? Baby, I need you to answer me."_

But what would be the point in that? Answering Taehyung, just to he can laugh coldly and watch him with a sad, distant expression as he falls deeper and deeper into nothingness. Better not to give the nightmare any more power. Better to just let it live. It'll be over soon anyway. Jungkook's body will smash against the ground and all his bones will shatter and it'll hurt like hell, but the pain will be enough to wake him up, and when he's awake he can pick up his pieces, and glue them back together on his own; Taehyung will be just close enough so he can function but far enough away that each movement is agonizing but the ensign will _live_. He'll live.

_"Christ, Jungkook. Just keep breathing, okay? Jesus, I'm on my way, alright. I'm almost there. Just keep breathing, Imzadi."_

Isn't this the cruelest dream of all? Taehyung had never once tried to play with Jungkook before. He'd been cold and distant and terrifying but he'd never tried to hold the ensign inside his nightmare. The empath had always been happy enough to give him that push he needed to go tumbling off the edge. Now he was asking Jungkook to breathe, and wasn't that the problem? He couldn't _stop_ breathing. It was too hard and too fast but he couldn't regain control. He was just waiting to fall, his fight or flight mechanism going completely into overdrive.

_"Shit, I'm almost there."_

Almost where? This is a nightmare. There's no _there_ for anyone to go. Taehyung tells Jungkook he loves him and then he pushes the ensign over the edge, and he wakes up. That's how it works. It's always been that way and it'll always be that way and there's no need to fuck Jungkook up anymore. One more word from the specter and the crewman worries his might dig his nails right through his palm. When it comes to Taehyung, he can take a lot.

But this is too much.

It's just too fucking much.

"Hey, hey, Imzadi, baby..."

The voice that was so far away is suddenly so close, and Jungkook feels his body recoil.

"S-Stay away - d-don't t-touch me," he sobs.

He can't have Taehyung near him right now. If he comes too close he'll push Jungkook right over the edge.

"I won't come near you, Jungkook, okay? I'm just going to sit down right here. I won't come any closer until you tell me it's alright."

The ensign nods in a jerky motion, but he just feels so... confused. This isn't how the nightmare goes. Taehyung doesn't come to him like this and coax him gently away from the edge. He just waltzes right up to him with cold, black irises and pushes him away with enough force to knock the wind from his chest. He watches Jungkook falling, usually, with a sadness in his eyes, but he just lets him go - lets him crash against the ground, splitting into a billion fragments of whatever he used to be.

"Jungkook, baby, you need to focus on your breathing, alright? You're going to hyperventilate in a second if you don't get your breathing under control. I need you to breath with me, okay, Imzadi? Just listen to me breathing and you can join in when you can."

He certainly doesn't do this. He certainly doesn't see Jungkook spiraling downwards and throw him a line, something he might use to anchor himself to a moment: like a long deep breath in, and a slow deep breath out. Over and over and over again until the rhythm becomes so familiar to the crewman's ears that his body, almost of it's own accord, starts following along. 

"Yes, that's it, Imzadi. You're doing so good, okay? Just keep breathing with me, baby."

And suddenly that fear goes away and Jungkook recognizes the body next to him as something that _protects_ him; it's not a villain or a danger or someone that means to do him harm. It's _Taehyung_ \- his Taehyung - his imzadi. The only person in the universe that will always put him first; that will always care for him and watch his back and makes sure that he's okay no matter what. It's Taehyung, and he wants Taehyung to _hold_ him.

"You want me to come closer, baby? I can do that, but I need you to tell me, alright? I don't want to frighten you."

Frighten him? That's stupid. Why would he ever be frightened of Taehyung?

"P-Please," Jungkook manages, but that's all he's got. Just a shaky plea for his imzadi to come closer.

"Well, okay," Taehyung coos, his body already shifting across the space, enveloping the ensign in warmth.

The older-man pulls gently against Jungkook's shoulder, sliding his legs around his quivering frame until the younger man's back is pressed against his chest. Taehyung's arms wrap around him, and his legs cross against his middle until the crewman is completely cuddled and protected and _grounded_. There's nowhere to fall when the empath holds him like this. It's the safest he's ever felt, maybe in his entire life, and the way that his imzadi hooks his chin over his shoulder so that he can press kisses into his jaw makes Jungkook's whole body feel slack and gooey and lovely.

"Why don't you relax these," Taehyung says, running his thumbs against the back of Jungkook's closed fists. "I can't hold your hand when they're all scrunched up like this."

Jungkook does his best, but it takes a long time, and a lot of gentle coaxing from Taehyung to get his fingers to unclasp from around each other. When he finally manages, Taehyung wastes no-time, interlocking their fingers before Jungkook can even realize that's what he wanted. He wanted every spare portion of his skin covered by his imzadi; he just wanted to feel him and sense him and smell him everywhere.

It feels so wonderful.

"How are you feeling?" Taehyung asks him after a number of quiet moments.

And Jungkook expects to be a weepy, stuttery mess, so he surprises himself when he says, "really good," in a cool, even tone.

"That's good," Taehyung whispers, kissing against the crewman's cheek. "You have a little scar here," he says, lips lingering against the ensign's skin. "So cute."

Jungkook practically disintegrates with pleasure.

The empath laughs. "So strange," he comments, breath tickling Jungkook's bare shoulder. "You were so frantic before, and now it's like it didn't even happen. Your mind feels so... calm. It's really nice."

"I think it's you," Jungkook says, pulling his imzadi closer. "With you holding me like this I feel like nothing could ever happen to me. I don't even remember what fear _feels_ like. It's like... anxiety level zero, and I _never_ feel that way."

Taehyung preens. "I did good?" He giggles.

"Yeah," the ensign sighs, and then, "Tae?"

"Mmm," the empath breathes, nosing against Jungkook's jaw.

"Am I awake?"

The motion stills. "Do you think this is a nightmare?"

"N-Not a nightmare," Jungkook explains. "I have g-good dreams sometimes, too. This is more like that."

Taehyung sighs. "It's not a dream, baby. I'm sorry that... that I -- that you have to wonder whether it is. I've been the worst, haven't I?"

Jungkook just cuddles Taehyung's arms closer against his stomach, leaning his head back against the empath's shoulder so he can see his beautiful face out of the corner of his eye. "It's okay," he whispers, kissing the lieutenant's cheek-bone. "I just have to get used to it, is all, having you like this. That you w-want me, I guess."

"I've always wanted you," Taehyung admits. "Just thought I couldn't have you. Thought I was... manipulating you -- hurting you."

"I know, Imzadi."

Jungkook kisses the empath again. He _does_ know. Better than anyone. At first the visions had been a little blurry and difficult to understand out in the open air of the rational world. But Jungkook had been inside Taehyung's head. He'd known exactly what the empath was feeling. Knew his deepest fears and desires. He'd spoken to Taehyung as a child and an adolescent - a young man who couldn't tell his right from left; a man who was in so much pain that he didn't want to feel anymore.

But even then, as a figment of his own memory, Taehyung had taken Jungkook in his arms and kissed him. It became a secret that Jungkook shared with a forgotten part of his memory, and he'd held it so close to him in the following three weeks. It was the only thing that kept him alive: the further and further the living, breathing Taehyung pushed him, the more Jungkook had latched on to that memory: beautiful, soft Taehyung, dressed all in white, saying " _I love you_ _"._ Even if it was just a fragment, it was enough.

Enough to hope that he was, eventually, going to get his way. 

"What was that," Taehyung laughs.

"What was what?"

"Just now you felt... I don't know... smug, maybe? You were remembering something lovely and then you just felt kind of, like, _smug_."

Jungkook laughs, thinking back on the conversation - on the kiss.

"I was just remembering a conversation I had with someone." Taehyung bites down lightly on Jungkook's ear. "Ow!" ensign yelps. "What was that for?"

"Stop thinking all orange-y about someone else, you asshole. You're not allowed."

"Not allowed?" The crewman grins.

"Yeah," Taehyung says, his voice cute and pouty. "Orange is mine."

"Yours?" Jungkook laughs, nestling his nose against Taehyung's cheek. "How do you know I wasn't thinking about you?"

Taehyung opens his mouth to say something, but promptly closes it. "Not even _then_ ," he says. "Just me. Me, me."

"You literally can't be jealous of yourself, you idiot. It's impossible."

"I'm not," the lieutenant sniffs. "You're mine. Plain and simple. So stop thinking about whatever it is you did with my memories and start thinking about me, instead."

Jungkook rolls his eyes. "Y'know you can just ask me, Tae. I'll tell you everything I remember."

"Mhmm." The empath shakes his head. "I don't want to know."

"Really?" Jungkook asks. "Not even a little?"

"Not even a little," Taehyung huffs.

Jungkook shifts around in his imzadi's arms. "What if I wanna show you, though?"

The empath pauses, but his face turns until he's practically nose to nose with Jungkook. "What would that entail?" He asks quietly.

"Kiss me," Jungkook says.

"You want me to?" Taehyung asks, though he's already inching forward.

"Yes," the crewman says. "Desperately."

Jungkook doesn't wait for Taehyung to close the distance. He just takes the initiative and does it himself, pressing his lips against Taehyung's full pout, delighting in the way that his imzadi's eyebrows raise in surprise before his eyes flutter shut, lashes ghosting against crewman's skin.

He's allowed to kiss Kim Taehyung.

Put that on goddamn repeat because he's _allowed to kiss Kim Taehyung_. He's wanted to do this since he was a seventeen year old cadet, and the intensity of his desire had only grown over time. Now that he's finally here, all wrapped up in the empath's arms as their lips slide deliciously across one-another's, the pleasure is almost too overwhelming - the delight is shining out of Jungkook's entire body and soul, to the point where he can't even stop the way he smiles against Taehyung, whose lips end up against his teeth causing them both to laugh until there's less kissing and more clacking.

Eventually the humor passes and the intensity takes over as they both realize it's been _so long_ , and they love each other _so much_ that there's almost an urgency to just get as much lip and skin and touch and adoration as they possibly can.

"Love you so much," Taehyung breathes against Jungkook's mouth. "Just love you so much."

The ensigns lips part against the words and Taehyung licks into him. Soon enough the crewman is clambering around so he can wrap around Taehyung's whole body, legs around his waist, arms curling around his neck, pulling him closer, deeper into the kiss. The empath's hands are flat against Jungkook's back, rubbing across the thin material of his sleeping clothes, gripping against his skin wherever he has flesh to spare. It feels so good that Jungkook can't held but weave his hands into Taehyung's soft, dark hair.

God, the hair. The kiss and the softness of his flesh and the sounds of his low moans. The intensity of just _kissing_ Taehyung and all the pleasure it brings and how Jungkook know that this is _his_ Taehyung who belongs to him and who _he_ belongs _to._ The incredible love he feels and the safety and the arousal and the knowledge that this is where he belongs, what he was born for: kissing Taehyung, loving Taehyung, making him feel pleasure and protection. Everything Jungkook feels he wants to send back to Taehyung ten-fold. Just wants to make his imzadi feel _so good_. That would give him more pleasure than anything.

"Wanna make you feel good," Jungkook whines.

Does he mean to get carried away, and grind into Taehyung's pelvis like a horny, clothed seventeen-year-old. Absolutely not.

But this is what he does anyway. His hips roll downward and the empath comes up, almost unconsciously, to meet him, and the peel of pleasure that runs through Jungkook is so massive that he gasps and shivers and dives in for a second pass before he can even stop himself: before he can tell his inner horn-dog to _get a hold of himself_ , because not twenty-minutes ago he was panicking and thinking he was stuck in a dream or a nightmare and now...

Now he's in a fantasy and he wants _more._

Taehyung pulls away and Jungkook's lips follow after him, almost of their own accord.

"God," Taehyung chokes. He's panting and his lips are cherry red and when he opens his eyes to look at Jungkook, his whole vision is inky-black.

Jungkook's eyes almost roll into his head with pleasure.

"Oh God, stop." The empath pants, shutting his eyes and resting his forehead against Jungkook's. "Stop it or I won't be able to control myself."

"Hate it when you hide from me," the ensign tries to use his nose to coax Taehyung upward, but the lieutenant resists. "Wanna see you."

Taehyung laughs. "Not hiding from you, baby, I'm just - I'm still on shift, so we can't --" Taehyung sighs. "We can't," he finishes.

"Oh," Jungkook sits back, his center of gravity shifting off-of Taehyung's crotch. "Shit, um, sorry. I don't k-know why I -- ah, that's so embarrassing."

The empath lifts his gaze, inky-black orbs scanning Jungkook's face. "As you can see you're not the only one involved."

Jungkook watches his imzadi intensely, and Taehyung's eyes shift uncomfortably, still trying to hide themselves. "Stop it," the ensign laughs, "stop trying to hide your eyes."

"They're gross," the empath whines. "Want you to think I'm pretty."

"Hello, I think we have established that I think you are more than just pretty, you idiot."

Taehyung pouts, still trying to blink away the darkness. "Don't you think it's creepy, though? Every-time you get me worked up I just spazz out like this. Don't you think I'm a freak?"

"Babe, we literally had this discussion last night. You know how I feel about that," Jungkook nods towards Taehyung's eyes.

The empath cringes. "I just don't get it," he says. "I mean I can feel it but I don't get it."

Jungkook brushes his hand against Taehyung's face, delighting in the way his imzadi leans into his touch. "I guess it's because you look the most like _you_ when you're eyes are like this. Mysterious and powerful and a little bit unhinged. It's so sexy. It's like... you could kill to protect me, y'know? You could and you would, and nobody'd be able to stop you. You've got all this power but you'd never hurt _me_. It makes me feel safe and special to know who and what you are... what you can do. You're so amazing, and you're _mine_. There's billions upon billions upon billions of souls in this Universe and someone as incredible as you belongs to _me_ ," Jungkook breathes an exasperated sigh. "Wow, it's just the most fantastic feeling. I actually feel kind-of bad that you got stuck with someone as boring and ordinary as I am."

Taehyung crunches up his face. "That's bullshit, Jungkook. Maybe I'm a little more psychic than you but you're the one that's special, okay? Look at everything I put you through. You just stood by me and kept loving me and you literally traveled into my mind to save me. You're smarter and stronger and braver than I'll ever be. I might have... special skills... but I'm a coward compared to you. You shine so fucking brightly that it blinds me half the time."

Jungkook feels the corner of his lips pull downward. "I'm so obsessed with you," he whines. "Like seriously, it's a problem for me."

Taehyung rolls his eyes. "You're adorable, Jungkookie."

The ensign gets the feeling that his imzadi had simply meant to peck against his lips. Right now, unfortunately, they don't seem to be particularly good at self control. By the time they pull apart, Jungkook is straight up panting, and Taehyung's biting down on his bottom lip with such force that the crewman worries he's gonna draw blood.

"Hey," he breathes. "Stop it, you're gonna hurt yourself."

"Ugh," Taehyung groans. "This is horrible. I have to go back to work. I -- I also wanna talk to Jin-hyung about all this. Make sure the bond is healthy and safe before we -- well, before we -- y'know --"

"Before we fuck," Jungkook says simply.

Taehyung chokes, his eyes flashing back to black. "Jesus don't _say that word_."

"What are you twelve?" Jungkook laughs.

"No, most certainly not." The lieutenant growls. "Which is why when you _say that word_ I want to absolutely _ruin you,_ Jeon Jungkook."

Then, they're kissing again.

"Christ," the ensign breathes between licks. "We suck at this."

"You're an amazing kisser," Taehyung whines. "Like holy _God,_ I could come just like this."

Jungkook bites down on the lieutenant's bottom lip, illiciting a long moan. "Had a lot of time to contemplate technique, babe."

"Aw, fuck you, honestly." The empath pulls Jungkook closer. "Christ, I'm just -- I'm so in love with you. I've never felt like this before."

"Me neither," Jungkook admits. "It's... it's wonderful."

Taehyung pulls their mouths together. "It is," he says against the ensign's lips. "It really, really is."

* * *

" _Gods,_   _Imzadi."_

Jin lets his head loll backward as Namjoon sucks a mark into the skin of his neck.

Last night had been a blur. They'd been drunk and desperate for one-another, so much so that Jin had come in under five minutes and Namjoon had followed shortly after. It'd been wonderful - absolutely, completely mind-blowing - to fuck Seokjin again. But this time, Namjoon wanted to do it right. He wanted to make love to his imzadi. He wanted to do it maddeningly, slowly; he wanted to make Seokjin weep; he wanted to make him _beg_.

Namjoon ran his hands down the length of the doctor's naked torso, making sure to ghost over his nipples with the tips of his fingers, feeling the flesh come alive underneath.

"You're so beautiful," Namjoon breathes, lips detaching from Jin's neck so he can survey his work. "You taste so good."

"Yuck," the doctor laughs, wrapping a hand around the captain's chin, pulling him upward until their lips press together.

This. Namjoon _could_ get used to this, but he probably never will. Jin's lips are unbelievably soft and coaxing as they trick Namjoon's mouth open sooner than planned, licking into him with a moan. The captain catches the doctor's tongue with his own; he starts to play with it, pushing and and dragging, nipping at the doctors lips with his teeth, pressing into his mouth with his whole body, practically, before pulling away, smacking his lips together, enjoying the swell of blood and the sensitivity that it brings.

Jin shifts in his arms, pushing into Namjoon, forcing him to submit under his weight as the doctor crawls into his lap, encasing the captain with his naked thighs. Sat like this, the younger-man can feel Jin's hardness against his stomach and the urge to reach across and give it a tug is almost completely overwhelming. Namjoon just want's to see his imzadi preen in his hands. It would almost be worth it, just to have Jin come across the captain's long fingers.

"Hard already," the younger-man says, reaching up to run a hand through Seokjin's wavy locks.

"Rude," the doctor whines.

Namjoon isn't expecting the elder to reach downward and take his cock into his hand. When his fingers wrap around the captain's shaft, the erection he was barely holding at bay springs completely to life, and the younger gasps, head drooping into his imzadi's shoulder as the betazoid starts to palm him slowly.

"Hard already?" The telepath laughs, lips pressing into Namjoon's shoulder.

"Imzadi," Namjoon groans. "That's so unfair."

"Anyone ever tell you life isn't fair?" The doctor picks up the pace. "Want me to stop?"

Namjoon's lashes flutter. "Fuck," is all he manages.

He's so sensitive. With Seokjin rubbing against him, and the Betazoid's scent all around - the feeling of the high thread-count sheets and the fresh sea-air from the open French doors ghosting against his bare back... it's all completely maddening. Everywhere the doctor touches Namjoon, even if it's not directly against his cock, sends a swirl of pleasure through his body that makes him want to bite down on Seokjin's skin, even if just to ground himself.

"Come if you want," Seokjin grins. "We've got all day - can always go for round two."

Namjoon's head lifts but he keeps his eyes squeezed shut. "No," he says. "Wanna be inside you."

"No need to be so sentimental about it," Jin laughs.

"Imzadi," the captain warns. "Please, I just - I don't want to joke around. I really want this to be special."

The doctor is quiet for a moment, but his hand slows and eventually pulls away. "Sorry," he whispers against Namjoon's shoulder. "You know I always deflect with humor when things get intense."

"I know," Namjoon whispers, pulling away a little so he can look into Jin's face. "But it's me, right? Me. You don't have to be like that."

"I think that's the problem," Jin admits. "It's been a really long time."

The captain runs his nose along the doctor's cheek. "We slept together last night."

"Yeah but it was dark, and we were super drunk, and desperate. Now it's light and I'm sober and I can look into your eyes and you can see my whole body and shit." Seokjin huffs, running his hand across Namjoon's chest. "You look different. You used to be so awkward and skinny but now you're like - you've got this whole 'thing' going on," he sighs, "and I look the same. Still pale and my shoulders are still too broad for my frame... the only difference is I'm _old_ now. I have wrinkles."

"You're thirty, Jin, you're not _old_." The captain runs a finger across his imzadi's face. "And you have no wrinkles at all. Literally, not even one."

"I do," the doctor whines. "You're not wearing your glasses, you just can't see them."

Namjoon resists the urge to roll his eyes. He's not going to tease Jin when he feels vulnerable. He's just not.

"Jin," he says. "You're literally the most beautiful creature I've ever seen in my entire life. I'm not just saying that because you're my imzadi, either. You're actually, _abnormally_ good-looking. You're aware of that, right? People stop on the street to _look_ at you - that's how beautiful you are."

The doctor pouts. "Everyone says Taehyung's better looking than me at home. Puberty really did him right - left me in the dust."

The captain shakes his head. "No way. I'm sorry, Taehyungie's a very attractive kid but he's got nothing on you, okay, babe? I'm actually convinced you might be the most attractive being in this entire Universe."

"Well that's relative," Jin laughs, but his cheeks flush an adorable shade of pink. "I'm sure the Klingons would say I look like an earth worm."

"They're free to their own opinions, but they're also wrong." The captain runs a thumb across the doctor's cheekbone. "You are universally handsome, Jin. We should call you that, actually. Universally-Handsome-Jin."

"Stop it," the Betazoid laughs, tucking his face into the crook of Namjoon's neck to hide his hot cheeks. "My face is all puffy."

"It isn't," the captain says. "It's perfect. You're perfect. There's not one part of you that isn't mind-numbingly perfect."

"Shit," Jin breathes hot against Namjoon's neck. "I forgot that's a thing that you do."

"What?" the captain asks, shrugging against the doctor until they're face-to-face.

Jin's dark irises scan across the younger-man's features. "Make me feel ridiculous and bubbly like I'm a fucking twelve-year-old girl, and not a thirty-year-old man."

"Bubbly?" Namjoon smiles. "That's cute." He nips against Seokjin's lip.

"You're cute," the doctor says, his whole face and neck shifting hot and crimson. "I want to face you, okay?" His forehead knocks against the captain's cheek. "Jesus, that's so cringe to say out-loud, but that's what I want. I wanna be able to see you the whole time."

"I want that too," Namjoon says.

"And I want you inside me. We can mix it up later on, but if I'm honest I always liked it better when you top."

"You've never said that before."

"I know," Seokjin muses, lifting his head so their eyes are square. "I was being stubborn, I guess. I fucking suck with emotional intimacy - you know this."

"You're a telepath," Namjoon smirks.

"Shh," the doctor dips his head, and kisses Namjoon slowly.

That's the end of the talking. The rest is just gasping and moaning as their chests press flush against each-other. Seokjin's arms hook around the captain's neck as they kiss, lips shifting against each-other's mouths, searching for the right angle and the right pressure that might communicate how desperately they love each-other, how much they want to be together in this moment.

* * *

It's hard, after that point, to really figure out where Namjoon begins and Seokjin ends. Maybe its the telepathy, or the bond, but every time the captain looks at the doctor, or the doctor looks at the captain, they can see themselves reflected inside each-other's eyes and they feel so connected, so perfectly melded physically and mentally that there's no real point in making unnecessary distinctions between them.

Namjoon presses Seokjin's back into the soft sheets and the doctor can feel his tenderness and Namjoon knows that he likes the patience and the care as much as the passion and the anticipation. There's a lot of gasping and some whining, but no-one has to pause to ask whether the other is ready, because they're already linked enough to know that when the captain spreads cool lubricant over his fingers and Seokjin's entrance, it's exactly the right time to push in slowly.

The doctor arches off the bed and his legs brace against Namjoon's torso, and even though it's been three long years since he's been touched by his imzadi, there's really not a lot of pain. His muscles are relaxed and as familiar to the captain as they might be to Seokjin himself. Namjoon's fingers know just the right pressure and just the right angle and when one needs to become two or even three.

They know when Seokjin is relaxed enough and ready enough for them to crook to the side and hit against his prostate, causing the doctor to yell out in honey tones that make Namjoon sufficiently wild with need, to the point where his cock beads pre-come and Jin is almost lucid enough to want to reach out and relieve his imzadi right here and now because the need is so intense that it almost hurts the younger-man, and Seokjin doesn't want his love to feel hurt.

But Namjoon is okay. He's deriving enough pleasure just from watching the way that Seokjin squirms, feeling the pleasure he feels through the link every time the tips of the captains crooked fingers brush against his prostate. The doctor, himself, is hard and leaking against his stomach and Namjoon wonders whether he should reach forward and help him out, but a silent warning from Jin lets him know that he probably couldn't take it right now. He's so sensitive and the internal stimulation is enough.

But they're both ready. They're both completely open, hearts and minds and souls, when Seokjin takes some lube into his own hand and, leaning forward, slicks Namjoon up. The captain hisses at the first of his own stimulation, and his eyes close and his teeth jut out over his bottom lip in a way that makes Seokjin wish they were _his_ teeth, biting down on the flesh.

The doctor sits up completely, and pulls Namjoon onto his knees so he can climb on top of him. Once again they're face-to-face, chests flush against each-other, every open space of skin taken up by hands or leg or abdomen. Seokjin's arms weave around Namjoon's shoulders for support, and he tucks his nose against his imzadi's cheek so that their lips can touch if they want, but they can still look each-other in the eye and communicate love in all the languages they know.

 _"I love you so much,"_ Seokjin thinks across to his mate, his imzadi, his husband, his Namjoon. He doesn't feel embarrassed or exposed or vulnerable. These words are just the truth, plain and simple. He loves Kim Namjoon with every fiber of his being and this is the state in which he exists. There's solids and liquids and gasses but there is also Seokjin and Namjoon, in love with one another, now and forever, existing in the universe as two halves of a whole.

 _"I love you,"_ the captain responds, and Seokjin's truths are mirrored exactly as they should be.

It is fate, or biology, or science?

Who fucking knows.

Whatever the answer - if there is one - it doesn't change their love.

Their love belongs to them, and them alone.

So when Namjoon slides into Seokjin it's like another form of promise. There's the words between them, and there's the bond, and there's the ring - but there's also this moment. Namjoon thrusting into Seokjin slowly and the doctor rolling his hips so there's force and connection on both ends, maddening and intensifying the pleasure to the point where they can't kiss anymore; all they can manage is to gasp against each-other's lips every time the captain bottoms out and Jin lets his weight sink down entirely, only his grip around Namjoon's shoulder's keeping him upright, and the protection of the younger-man's hands underneath him.

The pace is steady, and on the quicker edge of slow. It's not fast enough that they're fucking into each-other like last night, but not so lethargic that either one wants or needs more. It's the maddening kind of love-making that makes sweat bead on Namjoon's brow, as Seokjin's tongue licks against his lips, begging for entrance. It's the kind of love-making that takes focus and connection to be possible; but it is also the kind of love-making that is organic and almost unhinged and each party is so lost in each-other that their bodies and names meld together and they don't remember what it feels like to be apart.

When Namjoon shifts the angle, moving Seokjin a little to the side so he can press against his prostate, the doctor can't help but call out into the open air. It doesn't even cross his mind that the windows are all open because the sound of him only eggs his imzadi on and soon Namjoon is so worked up that he starts to groan into the air, long and low, adversely to Seokjin's higher, quicker lilts. Everything just feels so good. Namjoon's hard heat pushing into him is like a three year itch he couldn't scratch, except he's in love with that itch and now it  _is_ getting _scratched_ \- well and truly scratched to the point that the doctor's eyes are starting to roll into his head.

Suddenly _'oh'_ becomes his favorite word - or maybe the only word he's capable of speaking right now. Namjoon thoughts are white-hot with love and pleasure and so are Seokjin's. Their skin is slick with sweat, but it only seems to amplify the electricity between them. Seokjin's whole body is sensitive and he leans away from Namjoon only so that he has more leverage to connect their cores. At this angle the captain can thrust into him quicker and deeper, and the doctor can execute a full roll of his hips without the hindrance of an awkwardly bent leg and tight thighs.

Namjoon also had more space to reach forward and take the doctor's hard cock into his hand, pumping it in time with each thrust, and the pleasure is so fucking _much_ that Seokjin feels all of his control slip away. He's not sure when his imzadi got so coordinated but he's holding him and thrusting into him and pumping him and loving him and it's a perfect symphony of pleasure and affection and itches getting scratched that the doctor knows he can't hold on for much longer.

Not when it's Namjoon. It's gonna take practice to learn how to hold back all-over-again when Namjoon is so close that he's literally _inside_ him.

The captain isn't doing much better. His rhythm is starting to stutter and his groans turn to grunts and he's calling some mixture of words that sound like 'God' and 'Imzadi' and 'Jin', but they're all so garbled that neither of them are even sure what he's saying.

"S-So perfect. G-Gonna come," Seokjin whines. It's the first words he's bothered to say and even though they weren't entirely necessary, he wanted to tell Namjoon out-loud. Wanted him to hear how good he's doing. How perfectly he's fucking Jin right now.

Because the closer to their orgasm's they become, the more they're fucking and the less they're making love, and that's perfectly okay. They're still connected and they're still in love and even though they're going at it to the point where Jin almost wants to turn around on-all-fours just for purposes of access, he still feels Namjoon's tenderness. Looking into his face, even though his brow is furrowed with effort and his lip looks almost like it's been bitten to the point of damage, Seokjin still feels the _intimacy_.

"I-Imzadi," Namjoon pants. "C-Can't anymore --"

Which is fine because neither can Jin. At the sound of his imzadi's gravely voice, the doctor comes across his stomach and the captain's hand, and his core clenches so tightly around his lovers length that it throws the younger-man entirely over the edge. His hips jut into Seokjin once, twice, three times before he bottoms out for the last time, pushing so deeply inside the elder that the pressure is nudging towards over-stimulation, and the pain and pleasure of it makes Jin see actual _stars_.

He doesn't realize the tears that are staining his face until Namjoon moves him entirely onto his back, pulling out slowly, and wiping the tips of his fingers so softly against the skin of his cheek, wiping the wetness away.

Maybe if it were anyone else, the captain might freak out: might ask him if he's done something wrong - whether he's hurt him; but Namjoon knows that he and Jin cry because of the intensity that they feel. The pleasure and the love and the bond are thrumming so powerfully that it's almost overwhelming, and trying to rationalize all the feelings and sensations at once means that there's nothing else to do but cry.

Cry because they love each-other. Cry because they're sorry. Cry because they know they're going to be together forever from this day forward, and that makes them so happy that every other happiness they've ever felt in their entire lives feels a little bit grayer - and that, in and of itself, is kind of sad.

Namjoon crawls up Seokjin's body, pressing their chests together, and for the first time in an hour the doctor blushes a deep crimson. "I'm covered in come," he groans. "You're making such a mess."

"Don't care," Namjoon mumbles, eyes lidded and voice still gravelly from calling out. "Need to feel you everywhere or I think I'm gonna die."

"You were just inside me," Jin comments.

"Mmmm," the captain agrees. "But now I'm not so I miss you."

The doctor gets ready to say something snarky, but all he can manage is, "I miss you too, c'mere," before pulling Namjoon across his sticky flesh so they can kiss slowly.

"That was incredible, Imzadi," Namjoon whispers against his mouth.

"It was," Jin agrees. "Worth the wait."

"Well, we fucked last night, technically."

"That doesn't count, I came in like, thirty seconds. Let's pretend it never happened."

"Nooo," the captain whines. "Every-time is special. Besides, I didn't last much longer."

"You did well this time," Jin comments. "I was doing the _most_ as well. Back in the day that would've completely fucked you."

"You did completely fuck me," Namjoon laughs. "But I guess I was just, so happy to be with you again... it's not as if I was trying to hold off. I was just in the moment."

"Urgh, you always say the right shit. How am I supposed to keep up with you?"

The captain laughs again. "Why don't you just tell me how much you liked it?"

Jin blushes. "Ugh," he breathes. "I liked it a l - I mean I _loved_ it. When you came at the end there I actually thought I went blind for a second. I know that it's a telepathic thing, but it still surprises me that you seem to know exactly what I want. I don't even have to ask. You're so good at everything - it's actually a little irritating."

"Not everything," Namjoon snickers. "Can't dance."

"That's true," Jin laughs, tilting his head towards the ceiling. Namjoon takes the opportunity to kiss against his neck. "We'll have to get some lessons," he says, closing his eyes, trying to think through the captain's hot lips. "Y'know, for t-the wedding."

"Mmm," the younger-man breathes. "I'll talk to Hobi."

"Hobi?" Jin pulls away and the captain's lips detach from his neck with a 'pop'. "Who the fuck is _Hobi?"_

Namjoon sits up. "Hobi. As in Hoseok. Jung Hoseok. Chief Engineer Jung Hoseok."

" _Hobi_ ," Jin says again. "You call him _Hobi?"_

"Yeah," the captain says casually. "It's his nick-name."

"No it's not," Jin frowns. "'Hope' is his _nick-name_. _Hobi_ is - it's a fucking _pet name_ Namjoon!"

"It isn't!"

"It is."

"It is not, Imzadi!"

"It is, _Imzadi_." Jin's expression shifts into a mischievous grin. "You've got crush on the chief engineer!"

"Oh my God! No I don't! Hobi is just my good-friend!"

"So that's how it is," Jin laughs. "Kidnapped by ferengi one time and all of a suddenly he's _Hobiiiiii --"_

"You're teasing me," Namjoon deadpans.

"I dunno, why don't you go and ask _Hobi_ , your _'good friend',"_ he wraps the words in air quotes.

"I'm gonna tickle you in a second, Jin."

"I'm not ticklish," the doctor feigns. "Though maybe _Hobi_ is. Why don't you go tickle him, inst --"

"Alright, that's it."

The captain launches at Jin who screams in horror, though five minutes later, those same screams are something else, entirely.

* * *

 

"Hyung, Hyung, Hyung,"

Hoseok looks up at Jimin's smiling face and grimaces. "I changed my mind," he says. "You're far too happy, I don't want to see you. Go back to the ship and send down, fucking, Taehyung or something. He's always sufficiently angry with the world."

Jimin laughs, throwing his head towards the thatched roof of the tiki-hut. "I mean I can," he giggles, "but I don't think you'll be happy when he gets down here. He's been tucked into bed, kissing up on Jungkook all night so he's positively _glowing._ "

"Oh God, him too? What has the world come to?"

Jimin sits down on the stool opposite Hoseok and waves over to the bar, motioning that he'll have another round of the same. "I guess things didn't work out with Hani-noona, then, eh?"

"Don't call her that," Hoseok deadpans. "She's an evil succubus brought forth into the world from the fiery pits of Hell. Not, fucking, _Hani-noona_."

 The lieutenant laughs again. "She's older than you, as well. _You_ should be calling her noona, too."

"We're all using Federation Standard anyway, so the bullshit honorifics are not necessary."

"Why do you insist everyone calls you 'hyung', then?"

The engineer looks across as Jimin with an irritated expression. "At least I act like a 'hyung'. Lieutenant Ahn is evil. She'd sooner rip your dick off than buy your meal for you."

"Everything gets charged to the ship anyway," Jimin offers.

"If that's you're attitude then get the fuck out of my sight, Jimin-ah."

The younger-man whistles. "Someone's in a shitty mood today. Was it really that bad?"

"Yes," Hoseok drawls, trying to find the last remnants of his Gin and Tonic behind all the ice.

"Did you confess?"

"Yes."

"Properly?"

"Yes," the engineer snaps. "I implied clearly that I don't want to be _just_ her friend."

Jimin cocks his head to the side. "How do you imply something clearly? That's an oxymoron, hyung."

"You're an oxymoron," Hoseok seethes.

Jimin laughs. "Good one, hyung."

Their drinks arrive and the engineer grabs his greedily, practically straight out of the servers hand, and downs it in one go. When the ice touches his nose from the bottom of the class he cringes, shuffling it around so he can filter all the alcoholic liquid into his face before it's diluted by melted-water.

"Here, have mine, please," Jimin slides his drink across the table and Hoseok catches it with a curled pout.

He doesn't refuse.

"Hyung, are you sure that Noona is really the right girl for you? I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm happy that you've found someone you actually want to do more than just _sleep_ with. But there's plenty of tribbles in space, Hope-hyung. Why don't you just, actually try to date around for a little while, instead of latching on to the first girl that makes you feel something?"

"I don't want to have this conversation, Chim. I just want to drink my drink in silence and stare out at the ocean and contemplate my sad existence like the loser I am."

The lieutenant laughs quietly. "You wouldn't've invited me down if you actually wanted that, hyung. Come one, just tell good ol' chim-chim how you're feeling," he coos. "Let's figure it out, shall we?"

The commander huffs and chews on a block of ice. _Some people do that_ , he thinks. _I bet Hani chews her ice, fucking freak._ _Who actually likes the feeling of chewing fucking ice. It's cold. It hurts._

"She hurt my feelings," Hoseok admits. "Y'know I invited her out on a date. Like a proper date. Said the words 'do you want to go out to dinner with me?'"

"What did she say?" Jimin asks quietly.

"She had fucking spaghetti all over her face and she looked like a complete tool, but she had the audacity to look up from her bowl and go 'why?' Like, seriously - that's what she said: I was like, 'do you want to go out to dinner with me,' and she goes, 'why?'"

Jimin cringes, but his expression levels out quickly. "Maybe she was actually, genuinely curious, though. Maybe she meant more 'why do you want to take me to dinner,' and less, 'why would I want to go to dinner with you?'"

The engineer rolls his eyes. "She's a weapons technician, Jimin, she's not a fucking invalid."

"Some people just aren't as good at picking up on social queues as others."

"What, like Commander Min?"

Jimin blushes and Hoseok rolls his eyes. "Yeah, we, uh, sorted that out, actually."

"So you mean sending me an emergency communique from the bathroom during dinner wasn't necessary, after-all?"

The lieutenant bites his lip to hide another smile. "No," he breathes. "Not necessary."

Hoseok rolls his eyes right into his skull, this time. "You know that level-five emergency communiques are for _actual_ emergencies, right? You could've sent, I dunno, a level three, even?"

"Sorry," Jimin laughs, running his hand through his hair. "It honestly felt like a level-five at the time."

Hoseok grins. "But it all worked out in the end, I guess?"

"Ah, it's okay, hyung. We don't have to talk about it. I know you're hurting right now."

The commander waves him off. "Really, I'm fine," he says. "I just, don't want to talk about it anymore. I wanna hear about you. Wanna know what's got you smiling bright as a white-dwarf."

It isn't difficult to convince the commander, who rolls his eyes but blushes pink. "We... talked. Sorted some stuff out."

"You just talked, hmmm?"

"Yeah, we talked. And then when we were done talking we may-or-may-not have kissed on the beach until the sun-rose."

Hoseok grins. "You went down for dinner, and then you stayed on the beach making-out until the sun came up. That's like a whole eight-hours of kissing, Jimin."

"Yeah my lips are kind of fucking raw," the security officer admits. "He's a great kisser, though."

Hoseok's brows raise. "Any Vulcan techniques I should know?"

The lieutenant kicks his leg out under the table and the engineer flinches when the tip of his friend's boot comes into contact with his shin. "Be nice, that's my boyfriend you're teasing."

"Ow, fuck!" The older reaches down to rub against his leg. When he straightens up he wiggles his brows. "Oh so he's your _boyfriend_ now?"

The lieutenant flushes crimson. "Y-Yeah we sort of made it official as the sun was rising."

"Had to take a break to breath at some stage, I guess."

Jimin rolls his eyes.

"You two fuck?"

"Ugh," the younger reaches across the table, taking the near-empty glass into his own hand so he can hold the icy cup against his flushed face. "No, we didn't. I wanted to. He made this joke about booking a room the other week and I was so tempted to ask if he actually did it, but in the end I chickened out."

"That's not like you," the commander muses.

"I know, right?" Jimin sighs. "But he opened up to me about some stuff and I figured maybe it'll be best if we just... take it _slow_."

Hoseok balks. "Take it _slow_ , Jimin?" He reaches across the table and grabs his friend by the shoulders, shaking him slightly. "Who are you and what have you done with my Jiminie?!"

The lieutenant flicks him off, but the corner of his lips raise. "It's not exactly my cup of tea, but I'd do anything for him, really. How gross is that?"

"Suuuper gross," Hoseok says, physically gagging.

The lieutenant pouts and watches the engineer quietly for a moment. "Hobi I really want this for you," he says. "I know we kind of bonded at the Academy over the fact that we didn't 'do relationships' but it's actually not that bad. It's... not bad at all, really. I haven't felt this good in literal _years_."

"It's just not my thing, Jimin. You know that."

"Yeah, but, I used to say that as well, remember?" The lieutenant pauses, eyes scanning across Hoseok's face. "I just hadn't met the right person yet. When you meet the right person you don't even have to wonder, y'know? Suddenly you're just _falling for them_ and it's terrifying but you also don't want to stop."

"It's different."

"No it's not," Jimin shakes his head. "It's unfortunate that this happened for the first time with someone you actually might've liked, Hoseokie, but don't give up, okay? Maybe noo - maybe Lieutenant Ahn just isn't the right girl for you. Maybe if you just open up to the idea of meeting someone for real, you actually will? It's not like you're unattractive, hyung. You're smart and caring and charismatic and any girl would be a fucking idiot not to fall for you. If you just put yourself out there, it would be easy. You'd find someone, no worries."

"I'm too busy for that."

"You weren't too busy when you thought you liked the lieutenant."

"It was a moment of weakness and it's over now."

"Hyuuuung," Jimin whines. "Don't be like that. There's someone out there for you, I just know it. Hell, if you liked boys I would've been all over you at the Academy."

Hoseok looks up from his drink. "Seriously?"

"Hell yeah. You were hot as hell, hyung. Still are. I had such a crush on you in our Academy days."

"Wait, for real?" The engineer tries to seal his mouth shut, but can't quite find the right muscle.

Jimin laughs at his slack jaw. "Of course I did! You seriously had no idea?"

"Well of course I had no idea - you never did anything!"

"Well you're not into guys!"

"Never stopped you before," the engineer laughs. "What was that kid's name, anyway? The one who's life you completely destroyed?"

Jimin hides his face inside his tiny hands. "Tony Robins? Oh God, don't remind me! I still can't believe I did that."

"How long were you guys holding hands behind his girlfriend's back, again?"

The lieutenant's shoulders droop. "Like, fucking, almost a year?"

"Jesus, Jimin. Forget what I said before. You're a succubus, as well."

The younger-man laughs. "I was desperate, okay! I was horny and desperate and he always acted totally fucking trade. You know that's my weakness!"

"Well, if that's what you were after you could've just fucked me instead and not blown up the social hierarchy of your entire year."

Jimin chokes. "You would've been into that?" He asks.

"Sure," Hoseok flips his hand through the air in a 'whatever' sort-of motion. "I don't discriminate."

The younger cocks his head. "But you're straight?"

"Who said that?" The elder laughs. "Was it me?" He points to himself. "I don't remember saying that."

"But you like girls!" Jimin yells again.

"Yeah, of course I do. Have you seen them? How could you _not_ like them?"

"B-But --"

"Have you seen _you_ , though? Or fucking, the _doctor..._ Namjoonie's honey - what's his name again?"

"S-Seokjin-hyung?"

"Yeah, him." Hoseok blows a long stream of air out of his lips. "Fuck, he's gorgeous."

"Okay, sorry," Jimin shakes his head from side to side. "I'm just, super confused right now."

"Why?" Hoseok laughs. "I'm a people person. I like _people_. It's more fun that way, anyway. Why would I want to go ahead an box myself in and say 'I only like _girls'_. Sometimes I see women and I'm not attracted to them; sometimes I see women and I am. Why should it be any different with men?"

"So you've been with guys before?" The lieutenant squeaks.

Hoseok shrugs. "Probably not as much... I guess I'm a little pickier when it comes to men - but sure, I've been with guys before."

"Holy shit," Jimin balks. "How did I not know this about you?"

The commander shrugs. "I don't know why it's such a big deal. This is the 24th Century. I see something I like, I ask nicely, and if they like me too then we fuck. Why do I need to classify it?"

"You don't!" Jimin shouts. "Of course you don't! I guess I just... I dunno, I guess I just pigeonholed you for some reason. Sorry, hyung."

Hoseok laughs. "It's fine, Jimin. Seriously, it's not a big deal."

The lieutenant pouts. and crosses his arms over his chest. "Well, now I'm kind of pissed off actually! I wasted all that time fucking Tony Robins and he wasn't even that _good!"_

"Did he have a big dick, though?" The commander asks.

"Not even," Jimin huffs. "I would've had way more fun with you!"

"Yeah, can't lie. Probably true. Not worth worrying about it now. You've got a find piece of ass in the form of Commander Min waiting for you up in orbit somewhere."

Hoseok laughs at the way Jimin can't hide his smile. As soon as the half-Vulcan gets mentioned, his friend lights up like warp-nacelle.

"Yeah," Jimin beams. "I really like him. I don't want to fuck it up by pressuring him into anything."

The engineer shrugs. "I wouldn't worry about it, Chim. Just let it happen organically. Whether it takes a year or it happens tomorrow - if it's natural then it'll be alright."

The security officer laughs. "Jesus, if I have to wait a year I think I'll fucking die. I can barely keep my hands off him as it is."

Hoseok motions to the bartender and orders another round.

"Then don't," he says. "If you can't keep your hands off him - then don't."

[Twitter](https://twitter.com/Mussells1?lang=en)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did anyone see what I was implying just at the end there. Would that work for you? HYPOTHETICALLY if I was MAYBE TEMPTED TO INVOLVE HOSEOK WITH a certain vulcan/security officer pairing? I had no plans to do this but now that I'm here................. Yoongi learning to fall in love with Hope might be like..................................................................................... I DUNNO MIGHT BE ODDLY ENTICING???? Just shut me down if you're not into it and I won't do it. Honestly I haven't written myself into a corner or anything so I don't have to do it at all but I COULD DO IT Y'KNOW IF YOU'RE INTO THAT KIND OF THING. Might be a fun way to bring Hoseok into a more titular role.


	13. New Dynamics

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basically just Jin being an amazing brother and monologue-ing parental advice for 2000 words + Jimin is a machine of emotional support.
> 
> After that you'll need holy water (or not you guys were all like 'oh so sweet, we're not used to that' over the Namjin smut. Guess AO3 really is just a mess of a/b/o filth, eh? I'm into it tho..........................................)

"Jungkook and I -- we, uh, well I guess we're -- I love him, I guess. I mean, well, I don't _guess,_ I definitely love him. Yeah, fuck, I love him. I just wanted to come and talk, uh, about some stuff. Need your advice about -- well about some things, I guess."

Jin stares at Taehyung for a long breathless moment, and then he promptly bursts into peels of shrill laughter.

The empath bites the insides of his cheeks. He can't say anything in response.

He deserves it.

"You!" Jin points his finger right at the younger. "You are so _whipped_ _!"_ There's tears streaming down his brother's cheeks which are red and rounded by the force of his smile. "Oh my God, Taehyung," Jin gasps, "you're absolutely _ruined,_ I can _smell it on you_ _!"_

The empath rubs the back of his head and scuffs his boot against he carpet. He's trying not to smile but every-time Jin laughs Jungkook pops into his head and a wave of adoration and excitement washes through him with all the force of a tsunami.

He's absolutely _enamored,_ honestly. He almost feels as if there's not enough Jungkook to go 'round.

"Gods," Jin breathes. "I never thought I'd see the day. You're beaming, Tae - positively _glowing_. If I wasn't so pleased I might be disgusted. You're not pregnant are you?"

"Fuck off you fool," the younger snaps.

Although, biologically speaking if he _could_ carry Jungkook's children he would. That's how in love he is.

"Oh, blegh!" The doctor sticks his tongue out in disgust. "Don't think those types of irritatingly sentimental thoughts in-front of me, please."

"Jesus, sorry, stop reading me, then!"

"Gods, I can't even be irritated, actually. I'm just so happy for you." Jin's lower lip juts out and he holds his arms out for his brother. "Can I have a fucking cuddle now? You've been jerking away every-time I try to touch you for weeks."

Taehyung whines and practically springs into his brothers arms. It was true that he'd been avoiding the doctor's touch. Anyone who came towards him with love, really, had been too much for the young-man to handle. Any sort of tenderness had reminded him too much of Jungkook; even when Jimin put a hand against his forearm and looked towards him with sympathy, his imzadi's eyes had flashed through his mind, the sound of his voice, telling him he was special, or the feeling of his kiss.

Jungkook had become synonymous with love, even then, when he was resisting. His mind could only rationalize affection in one way, and bring him right back around to the brown-haired boy with the round doe-eyes. His boy.

Now that he didn't have to hide anymore, he squeezes Jin as tightly as he can, and pours all of his repressed love into his brother telepathically.

"Christ," Jin chokes, his voice thick with emotion. "Can you warn me before you pull that kind of shit," he sniffles.

"Sorry," Taehyung says. "Just missed you is all."

"Oof," the doctor huffs. _"Missed you too, little one."_

" _Little one?"_ Now Taehyung is straight up crying. _"You haven't called me that in years."_

 _"I can't remember why I stopped, or when,"_  Jin admits, pulling back, his eyes scanning across his brother's face.  _"If I'm honest you haven't felt like_ you  _in a really long time, Tae. You looked like you and you sounded like you and you even acted like you and yet... something was always off. But when you walked into my Sickbay just now I -- I just knew straight away,"_ Jin's eyes fill up with tears.  _"You're back, aren't you? You're_ you  _again."_

 _"I'm back,"_  Taehyung says.  _"I didn't even realize I was gone until Jungkook was telling me he loved me since before I even knew he_ existed  _and everything just shifted back into place._ _"_

 _"You're completely different,"_  Jin agrees.  _"If I wasn't seeing it with my own eyes then I wouldn't believe it possible. But you're here and you're completely different than you were three, even two days ago. It's unbelievable."_

 _"It's the bond,"_ Taehyung admits.  _"I can't explain it with words or even thoughts but I just -- I feel_ him  _all around me and it's like the heat of summer and roses and cupcakes and embers in winter and the power of mother-nature; it's scary and intense and **primal**_ _in a way and yet I'm not afraid. He's with me wherever I go, so I'm not afraid. How is this possible, Jinnie?"_

 _"I don't know,"_ the doctor admits.  _"But I feel the same with Namjoon. It's not as intense anymore but it's not any less_ true _. I can be in the same room as him without completely losing my focus these days but sometimes I look across at him and I just fall apart all over again, like it's the first time. Honestly, sometimes I see Namjoon and I'm just_ sure  _he's the reason that the laws of physics are the way they are. Sometimes I wonder whether he's the reason that stars shine and rain falls form the sky and it's disgusting to admit out loud but I want you to know that I_ understand _. I really understand, Taehyung."_

The empath shakes his head in disbelief. _"What did we do to deserve this, hyung? The bonding is so rare and yet we both just stumbled across compatible mates -- Jesus that doesn't even make sense when I say it. Jungkook isn't just a_ compatible mate... _he's so much more than that."_

Jin laughs. _"I know what you mean,"_ he smiles. _"We must've brought joy to a lot of people in a past life to be so blessed."_

 _"Christ,"_  Taehyung beams.  _"I actually wanna call mom. I haven't spoken to her in like... eleven months, but I just suddenly wanna call her and send her three hundred photos of Jungkookie and show him off and gush about how smart and kind and wonderful and brilliant and perfect he is."_

 _"Maybe you should tell_  him  _first, Tae,"_ the doctor suggests.  _"He's been through a lot for you, y'know? If he wasn't so stubbornly in love with you... if he wasn't such a fucking_ strong  _kid, these last few months might've killed him. They might've literally killed him, Taehyung. You realize that, right?"_

The younger brings his hands to cover his face, breathing into his palms heavily. _"I know,"_ he cries out in his mind. _"I can't even think about it for too long because it makes me feel physically ill. I'm never going to be able to make up for what I've done."_

Taehyung feels warm hands wrap around his wrists, pulling them away from his face. _"I don't say it so that you feel guilty, Tae. I just want you to be aware of how_ lucky _you are. What you have with Jungkook is to be treasured above all things, alright? You've both had it tougher than most and you made it out the other end together. That means something, okay? Use that knowledge to grow stronger in love. Don't hold back anymore."_

 _"I know,"_  the empath sighs.  _"I know. I won't hold back. That's why I'm here. I just, I wanted to make sure I haven't done any permanent damage to our bond. I want to make sure Jungkook is safe and healthy so that we can... um, so that we can, uh, move forward."_

The doctor purses his lips. _"Humans don't have a paracortex,  the telepathic portion of the bond is sustained by you, Tae, so I don't think it's possible that he's sustained any_ psychic _trauma, per se."_

 _"What about psychologically, though?"_  Taehyung feels fresh tears collect in the corner of his eyes.  _"You should have seen him yesterday, Jinnie. He woke up from a nightmare because I was gone and it just sent him completely over the edge. I was so worried - I thought he was_ dying.  _That's how it felt. And I want to do so much with him but I just... if he's not_ well  _mentally, I don't know if -- I don't know if it's right."_

The doctor cocks his head. _"I saw him in the mess this morning when I had breakfast with Namjoon and he seemed okay. Ecstatic, even. Did you bring him to Sickbay yesterday? I didn't see it in the logs."_

 _"I didn't,"_  Taehyung admits.  _"He seemed to calm down so quickly when I was with him. I've been checking in on him emotionally since then and he feels... well he feels_ fine." The pilot runs a hand through the back of his hair.  _"But what if it's just wishful thinking? What if I just want to_ believe  _that he's okay because I want... well because I want to_ do  _things with him."_

Jin laughs. _"I'm a doctor Tae, and you're not twelve years old. If you're talking about sex then you can just say it openly."_

Taehyung feels himself shift crimson.

_"Is that why you came here? Because you're worried that Jungkook isn't mentally well enough for the two of you to have sex?"_

The empath nods slowly. _"If he's... traumatized because of what -- because of what I put him through then he needs to get better before we -- well, before we --"_

_"Jesus Taehyung. Just say it, Gods."_

There's an uncomfortable pause. Well, it's uncomfortable for Taehyung. Jin just watches his brother expectantly.

 _"Before we have_  sex _."_ The empath cringes. 

The doctor shrugs casually. "Not _sure, but to be honest it seems like you're the one whose not ready, Taehyung."_ Jin crosses his arms over his chest. _"From what you've said, Jungkook seems to need emotional and physical intimacy from you right now. If anything, I think sexual intercourse'll just help to further substantiate the bond. I mean, I'm not telling you to tie him down to the bed-frame, blindfold him, and have your way. Maybe he isn't ready for that, just yet. But I don't see the harm, if you have an adult discussion and you both feel ready and able, in sleeping together. If anything, Jungkook just needs to feel cared for, right now. Sometimes there's no better way to communicate your love and affection than through sex."_

Taehyung sighs. _"Honestly, hyung, I did some pretty horrible shit to him over the past few months. I mean, I know we weren't technically_ together _but I did -- well I did sleep with someone else and I feel like I fucking, violated us, or something. I literally feel dirty, Jin. When Jungkook touches me sometimes I feel like I need to apologize because I'm, fucking, tainted or something."_

 _"Tae,"_  the doctor says carefully. 

 _"No,"_ the empath shakes his head, backing off slightly. _"I know what you're gonna say. It's my fault, though. I let somebody else touch me when I_ knew _it wasn't right. I literally went after someone else even though it made my skin crawl. Now every time I think about Jungkook -- ugh, fuck. Every time I think about Jungkook seeing me or touching me or having me inside him I feel like I'm going to contaminate him. I don't deserve to have him like that."_

Jin purses his lips. _"Frankly, Tae, that's fucking ridiculous. You're not, fucking, carrying a disease, you idiot. So you fucked someone else when you shouldn't've. You think we all haven't done that? I knew what Namjoon was to me before we got together properly - you think I didn't fuck anyone else to try and convince myself otherwise? The bond is fucking scary, especially when you're young and clueless and suddenly your whole center of gravity shifts around this one person and you just can't shake them. Besides - Jungkook isn't a virgin. It's not like he_ waited _for you, Tae. I've literally read his sexual history and trust me, the kid had fun, alright? I know that he's your imzadi and it's all fresh and new and you feel like he literally shits sunshine right now, but he's only human; he's made mistakes too, and he's not a perfect person."_ The doctor laughs coldly. _"Y'know I really hate to get so fucking brotherly and sentimental on you but our mistakes make us who we are. We can't expect to do better, to be better, without them. So, yeah, you fucked around with Jungkook and yourself and made shit more complicated than it probably needed to be. So what? You're living in this moment right now, Taehyung. You've literally got the rest of your whole damn life to make up for what you've done wrong. It was a mistake. It doesn't make you disgusting or taint you or leave you any less worthy of Jungkook's love. Gods, if he knew you were thinking this shit he'd probably punch you in the face."_

The empath laughs. _"He'd probably start crying, to be honest. He'd do something cheesy like kiss my eye-lids and tell me how beautiful I am."_

And there's no lie in that. Taehyung knows that's exactly what Jungkook would do.

_"Yuck, is he really like that?"_

_"Entirely,"_ the empath admits.  _"The first time I explained to him that I could literally alter people's  minds without their consent, I said I was a freak and he looked across at me with this shocked expression and he told me I was_ special _."_

_"Christ, and so promptly decided you would ignored him for two months?"_

_"It seemed logical at the time."_

_"Love isn't logical, Tae. It's weird and fucked up and it makes us do stupid shit that we don't understand. It makes us crazy and ridiculous and cruel, sometimes. It embarrasses us and turns us into sentimental fools and clouds our judgement and literally  messes us up on a chemical level,"_  the doctor's expression softens, "but it's also the most beautiful and wonderful and magical thing in this entire universe, and I have it with Namjoon and you have it with Jungkook on a level that most people would kill for. All you have to do is let it in, little one. I can promise you that when you find love like we have, those dark and dirty, disgusting parts of you are almost wiped clean. They never truly leave you, but with them, you shine anyway." 

Taehyung thinks on his brother's words as he trudges back to his and Jungkook's quarters. Maybe peace of mind is still far off but something in Taehyung feels calmer and more collected than ever before. Because what Jin said was true: he has made mistakes that he'll never be able to wipe away, he's caused his dearest love enough pain for a life-time, and he's never gonna be able to take that pain back.

But, unless you're caught in a temporal anomaly, time only really moves forward. If Taehyung could change things... well, maybe he'd leave everything exactly as it was. The love he feels for Jungkook is immeasurable because he knows what it is to be without him; he knows the emptiness and the agony of his imzadi's absence in a way that he couldn't dream up in even his worst nightmare. That knowledge does nothing but strengthen his resolve to show Jungkook all the love he has inside his soul. He wants to feed Jungkook with happiness and passion until he knows no fear, and if he's ever afraid he wants to give him a place to feel safe. He wants the younger-man to reach his full potential with Taehyung by his side, cheering him on and giving him strength and loving him totally, and purely.

Because, to tell the absolute truth, Taehyung knows in his heart what Jungkook would do if he saw those ugly, disgusting parts of him.

He knows how Jungkook would react if the filthiness inside the empath's body was ever revealed in full.

He'd take half-betazoid into his arms and he'd embrace that dirtiness with love in his hands and on his lips.

He'd see the ugliness and his eyes would go wide.

Then, without even so much as a beat, he'd tell Taehyung he was special.

* * *

Frustration.

That's what it is.

He can't pinpoint the origin exactly, but Hoseok is _frustrated_. His locks aren't quite locked and his pops don't pop and the sweat that drips out of his hair into his eyes stings like a goddamn knife in the socket. He tries to blink it away but there's no relief. He wipes at his forehead with the towel slung around his shoulders and for maybe five whole seconds it's all good, but there's always another down-pour and he's fucking blinded all over again.

He's exhausted. He's irritated and his muscles are spent but at the same time he feels the frantic edge of twelve cups of coffee that he can't remember drinking. Sitting down doesn't seem like an option; laying off might actually be worse than the burn of lactic acid that collects in his calves and shoulders and quads. His lungs burn and his head hurts but he's waiting for just one moment of clarity - even a millisecond would do - then he could set himself down and pat himself on the back and remind himself that this heaviness which has settled across his chest won't last forever.

 _I'm sunshine_ , he reminds himself. Naturally, in his day to day, he always feels closer to a smile than a frown; he doesn't even really remember what it's like to yell or curse with actual intent. Laughing is just like breathing, and joking around never feels forced - it's always fluent.

But on the odd occasion when he feels low _... God_ he's low. 

And he's never entirely sure how to deal.

So, he doesn't. He doesn't deal, instead he compartmentalizes, and most of the time it works.

Most of the time.

Most of the time it works.

"Hyung?"

Hoseok glances into the mirror, finding a dressed-down Jimin with a worried expression. The lieutenant looks all soft out of his uniform; his hair it light and clean and pushed back off-of his face; he's wearing slim-fit white pants and a light brown jumper that hangs off of his left shoulder as if by accident: knowing him, though, Hoseok's sure that Jimin probably spent three hours in the mirror situating it exactly right so that he looked equal parts alluring, and equal parts cute.

The engineer kind of wants his friend to go away. The younger man just has an oddly annoying gift where he can glance at a person and decode all of their innermost feelings and Hoseok's really not into that right now. He just wants to dance until he blacks out so that he can wake up in the morning and give this whole compartmentalization thing another shot.

"Hey, Jimin. What're ya doing here?" He says, instead.

The lieutenant frowns. "It's past eighteen-hundred hours, hyung. We were supposed to meet in the mess for dinner, remember? With Yoongi and Tae and Jungkook?"

The commander huffs. He hadn't forgotten, actually, though he's about to open his mouth and feign ignorance. In all honesty sitting down and sharing a meal with two other couples is exactly what he _didn't_ want to do. As happy as he was that all of his friends seemed to be pairing off, he was also eager to distance himself from that energy as much as physically and mentally possible. It didn't matter what his feelings were actually saying. He wasn't prepared to listen to them right now.

"Sorry, Chim, I forgot," he lies easily. "Just been trying to get this choreo down. Having a some issues sorting out the kinks."

Whether or not Jimin believes him, Hoseok isn't sure. Either way, he says nothing. "Alright, well, why don't I give you a hand?"

"That's fine - you're not exactly dressed to dance, kid."

"Kid?" Jimin laughs. He pulls the jumper over his head and slides it across the floor, bearing his very-obviously non-child-like physique. "There, see, now I'm ready to dance."

"Now you're half naked," Hoseok huffs.

"Yes - don't spend all that time at the gym for nothing, hyung."

The commander rolls his eyes. "Fine, you can gimme a hand but just, fucking, don't distract me, okay? I really wanna get this done so I can go to bed."

"You got it." The lieutenant moves to Hoseok's left, flexing his shoulders slightly, shaking out his muscles.

Hoseok doesn't give him a moment to breath. He resumes playback from a particularly complicated phrase and launches into the choreography without even counting-in. It's kind of an ass-y move, but he's not in the best frame of mind and he knows that Jimin has questions burning on the tip of his tongue that he doesn't wanna give him time to ask. Its the reason that he stays, after all. Hoseok can only keep his mouth shut for so long; past a certain threshold all the feelings that linger in his head generally just spill out of his mouth. Especially around his younger-friend. It's always been that way. Jimin pretends like he needs Hoseok to keep him anchored but actually it's the other way round.

Always has been.

The blonde catches up quickly, and Hoseok isn't surprised; the kid's always been a fantastic dancer. Even in the moments when his structured style gets the better of him and his motions are too clean or too tight, there's always beauty in the way that he moves. Hoseok admires him; he's always liked the way that Jimin is fierce and strong but also gentle and forgiving when it comes to the people that he loves. It's why he's so dangerous, right now. One sympathetic look, or a simple 'ah, hyung' muttered with empathy is gonna utterly break down the elder's wall. Worse is, he knows it's coming. Just a matter of time really.

He's just waiting on the moment.

"Computer pause playback," Jimin clicks his tongue and comes to a dead-stop somewhere near the end of the song.

"What?" Hoseok says, and he tries his best not to sound as irritated as he is.

"Nothing," the lieutenant shrugs. "It's just that I've figured out what's wrong with the piece and I'd thought you'd like to know..."

The engineer rolls his eyes. "Please," he drawls, "enlighten me, almighty Jimin, God of Dance."

The younger eyes him through his reflection in the mirror with sharp, intense eyes. "It's you," he says finally. "You're fucking miserable. This is supposed to be a fun piece and you're fucking it up because you're fucking miserable."

Hoseok feels the corners of his mouth pull downward as he gives himself away.

Because there it is. Close to six hours of compartmentalization thrown completely to the wayside.

"Ah the famous pout," Jimin muses. "When Hope turns to 'Nope'. Haven't seen that in a long time."

"You asshole," the engineer mutters. "I was having a great time until you barged in here with your stupid cuddly expression and your friendship and all that."

"As if," the lieutenant growls. "I bet you've literally been in here since practice this morning killing yourself."

Hoseok says nothing.

"Yeah, I thought so." Jimin crosses his arms over his chest. "You know you were fine this morning and then half-way through rehearsal you just lost the plot. I figured I'd give you some time to sort it out before I came out and asked you straight-up, but I had no idea you were gonna stay in here all day. Look at yourself," the blonde points to Hoseok's sweaty form. "Are you aware that your foot is literally bleeding?"

Hoseok looks down at his toes for the first time in what feels like hours, and a sharp splint of pain shoots through his foot.

He winces. "I am now," he says.

Jimin shakes his head. "Computer, arch."

The arch appears and the younger-man stalks towards it. For a second, Hoseok wonders whether he's going to straight-up leave but instead, he places a flat palm against a compartment to the left of the access panel, clicks it open, and pulls free a small medical kit, tucking it under his arm.

He turns back to the commander. "Sit down," he instructs with a bored expression.

Hoseok knows when he should argue with Jimin and when he shouldn't. Even though the officer is lower in rank and a number of years his junior, he's still finds his energy strangely intimating sometimes. Yeah, sure, the kid's tiny, barely the size of the engineer's fingernail, but there's a lot of brute strength in his muscular shoulders and rounded biceps. He also had a sparky personality to match.

Sometimes Jimin's just not to be tested.

The commander slides onto the floor, careful to avoid pressing his left toes any further into the ground.

Jimin rounds him, plopping down in front of the engineer with a dissatisfied huff. "Gimme," he says.

Hoseok's pout deepens. "No," he whines. "You're just gonna hurt me. I'll go to Sickbay when I'm done."

"No you won't," the lieutenant quips. "So give it here. I'm not gonna hurt you, you idiot, I'll just patch it up."

"Do you even have first-aid training?"

Jimin's face clouds with offense. "I'm the chief security officer aboard a Federation starship and you think I don't have _first aid training?"_

Hoseok shrugs. "Actually, when you put it that way it --"

"Just shut the fuck up and give me your foot, Hoseok."

"Hoseok- _hyung_ ," the engineer corrects, but he stretches his foot tentatively towards Jimin.

"You're really gonna choose now to lecture me on honorifics, when your bloodied, damaged foot is literally in my hands?"

Jimin snakes his cool fingers around Hoseok's injured toes, and examines each one with a gentle touch. The engineer tries his best not to flinch but, in all honesty, he's a fucking coward and there's a reason he chose engineering instead of biology. He can't fucking stand the sight of blood.

The lieutenant clicks his tongue, reaching across to the medical kit and pulling free a small pouch of disinfectant wipes. "You seriously didn't notice this?" Hoseok hisses when the first wipe touches his skin. "Don't be baby," Jimin mumbles.

"I was concentrating," the commander breathes.

"You were being idiotic." Jimin flicks his hair out of his eyes. "You know I'm starting to wonder whether there's something wrong with me," he says.

Hoseok frowns. "Why's that?"

"Because everyone I love seems to get off on being utterly problematic. First the whole Taehyung/Jungkook saga - thank Christ that's over - but now I've gotta deal with you and your emotionally dimwitted ass."

"I am not emotionally dimwitted," Hoseok says, and he's not sure whether Jimin does it on purpose when the corner of the antiseptic wipe presses into a particularly tender portion of his toe. He hisses, pulling his leg backward. "Jesus be careful, Jimin!"

"Don't be so soft, God."

"Don't be so rough!" The commander quips back.

But in all honestly, Jimin is gentle as he cleans away crusty dried blood. He huffs as he discovers new wounds and a frown knots between his brows but his gentleness never wavers. It makes Hoseok's heart clench a little. He's not sure what he's done to deserve such good friends.

"So," Jimin whispers, discarding the wipe for a dermal regenerator. "You gonna tell me what happened today?"

The commander huffs. "I don't appreciate being cornered in this way."

"I'm not _cornering_ you, I'm _caring_ for you. You obviously needa get something of your chest or you wouldn't've locked yourself in here for the whole damn day."

Hoseok pouts. "I don't really want to talk about it, Jimin."

The lieutenant shrugs. "I don't really care if you want to, or not. You _need_ to, hyung. Look at your fucking feet. You need to level with me, Hope. I'm not leaving here until you do."

The commander closes his eyes. "It's embarrassing," he says.

"Have you met me?" Jimin laughs. "It can't be as bad as half the shit I've ever done or said."

Hoseok sucks in a breath, biting against his bottom lip.

"Come on, hyung," the lieutenant coaxes. "Get it off your chest."

The commander brushes his hair out of his lashes, dropping his eyes to his lap. He taps his finger against the ground.

"Taehyung's still a great dancer, eh?" He starts, glancing carefully at Jimin to gauge his reaction.

The lieutenant's brows raise slightly. "Yeah, course he is. What's that got to do with anything?"

"Did you see Jungkook's face when he was watching him?"

"Honestly, no. I had my eyes on Tae."

Hoseok cocks his head to the side. "So did Kook. I've never seen anyone look at another person like that. The minute Taehyung started to move it was like the kid was witnessing a miracle or some shit. His eyes were just locked on him, like he was literally the center of the universe. I mean the free-style was cool but it wasn't anything Jungkook couldn't've done himself. Better even - Jungkook's definitely better. So I was wondering why the fuck he was looking at Tae like that. I mean I know they're together now, and all, but this was something just, like... this was next level."

Jimin giggles. "Well they're in love, hyung, what did you expect him to do?"

"Well that's the problem, isn't it?" Hoseok closes his eyes. "Jungkook was looking at Taehyung with so much _love_ that I couldn't even put fucking _words_ to it. I was just like 'well the dancing's good, but it's not that good', 'why's he staring at him like that?' But then I couldn't get his face out of my head for the whole rehearsal. And when the song finished Taehyung just looked at the kid so expectantly, like a puppy-dog waiting for a treat or something. And I dunno what Jungkook said to him because it was in the middle of a kiss but Tae just beamed brighter than anything I've ever seen and I was half-way caught between feeling like I should avert my eyes, but also just, I dunno, trapped in that moment."

"What are you saying, hyung?"

Hoseok feels his brows knot together. "It's the first time in my life that I've looked at two people _in love_ and I've actually _felt_ something, y'know? Like I wanted what they had. It took me so long to even figure out what was happening between them that I'm actually worried I'm not, fucking, _capable_ anymore. I'm twenty-seven. I haven't had a partner in... fuck, I don't know if I've _ever_ had a partner. I don't mean just, dating or fucking, I mean like an actual, legitimate person that I could share myself with. It's always been just me and my engines, y'know. I never even thought about it before."

"And then you saw Jungkook."

"And then I saw Jungkook and it just sent me into free fall. I wanna look at someone like that. I wanna be desperate for someone's approval, for once. I wanna kiss someone and say something nice and have them beam brighter than a warp-nacelle."

"We all want that," Jimin says gently.

"Not me," Hoseok says. "I never wanted it. Not until today. But now that I've, fucking, realized... I can't stop thinking about it. I just feel _empty,_ now. Everything's turned grey."

"Hyung," the lieutenant says softly, patting against Hoseok's newly healed foot. "Y'know, Jungkook and Taehyung didn't just magically fall in love one day, like a fairy-tale. Kook's been obsessing over him since his Academy days, and Tae's been fucked up for ages because all this shit happened.. God, I can't even tell you, really, but it was fucking awful and a lot of us thought he'd never recover." He sighs. "What I mean is, it wasn't easy for them to get where they are. They both struggled and they're both damaged. I think that might be the reason why they can look at each-other like they do. I know it probably doesn't make you feel any better to know this, but, everyone struggles in love, okay? That's why it's special. Everyone has a hard time and feels empty and lonely and gets fucked by love once or twice or a dozen times. No one's safe from that sting: not you, or me, or Yoongi, or the captain and the doctor."

"That _doesn't_ make me feel any better," the commander admits.

"I don't think it's supposed to." Jimin purses his lips. "The point of it all, is that despite everything - despite how much love can hurt sometimes - and even though it has the capacity to be so destructive, we all persevere because it's worth it. Look, things between Yoongi and I are so new... I don't really know what we're doing half the time, but I do know how my heart feels when he's around me: when he touches me, or even fucking, speaks to me. I know that he could hurt me one day, but, I'm willing to risk it because I've never met anyone who made me feel so brave before. I'm willing to fall in love with him because my heart has weighed the risks and told me that it's worth it."

"Is it really that easy?" Hoseok asks.

"No," Jimin laughs. "It's fucking hard, actually... but when you meet the right person it doesn't matter. Obstacles just become moments in time for you to traverse together."

"I feel like I'm too late," the commander admits. "I feel like I've waited too long and now I'm just this mess of distorted, dissatisfied emotional bullshit that has no fucking direction."

"You're not," the lieutenant says, reaching forward and grasping Hoseok's hand with conviction. "Hyung you're the best person I've ever met in my life. You make the people around you _glow_ and anyone even half-way deserving of your love would realize that. Remember when we lost touch?" Jimin squeezes the engineer's hand tightly. "After Wolf 359 you heard what happened and you sent me communiques, right? Dozens and dozens and even though I didn't responds to any of them, you kept sending them. Because you knew me and you knew I'd shut down and so you sent me letters and you were my life-line. You reminded me that even when terrible things happen, the universe is still in motion, and there's still joy and laughter and love, even if you can't see it."

"It really wasn't that big a deal, Jimin," the commander laughs. "I literally just sent you bullshit about my day."

"But you sent them every day. Ever single day even though you didn't even know if I was even watching them. But I did watch them, and they helped me. I don't even think I'd be here if it wasn't for you, hyung. I mean that."

"I think you should probably thank Commander Min for that, not me. You've been glowing since you met him, kid."

Jimin shakes his head. "I know that Yoongi helped me find myself again, hyung, but there wouldn't be a me to _find_ without you, okay? You are so important to me, alright? Don't just blow us off."

"I -- I'm not. Our friendship's important to me, too, Jimin. I don't know if I feel better, exactly, but I feel a little lighter and I'm really grateful that you came to find my sorry ass."

The lieutenant slaps his leg. "Don't forget about your toes. I fixed those, too."

"Yeah, you did." Hoseok laughs, flexing his pain-free foot. "Guess the first-aid training was worth it, after all."

Jimin laughs before watching the commander for a long moment.

"What?" Hoseok shifts uncomfortably under his gaze.

"Nothing," Jimin says. "I'm just gonna give you a hug now, alright? You look like you need one."

"Fuck off, Jimin. I'm not twelve."

"Shut up," the lieutenant says, reaching forward, pulling Hoseok into his arms so fast that the engineer can't even think about evading him. "Y'know you want it."

It takes him a second to settle in, but eventually his shoulders relax and his arms circle Jimin's small waist.

Yeah.

He did want it, after all.

* * *

Taehyung swings their clasped hands between them and Jungkook pretends he's not into this kind of childish behavior.

But fuck it, he is.

He really really is.

The way that Taehyung unabashedly advertises their relationship makes Jungkook feel incredibly smug and fucking overjoyed. If he wanted to push his imzadi against the corridor wall and suck his face off, Taehyung would let him; if he wanted to slip his hand underneath Taehyung's loose white shirt and run this tips of his fingers across the empath's smooth hip, Taehyung would let him. That's a kind of power Jungkook's never felt before.

Taehyung is _his._ Openly and honestly now, they belong to each other.

The ensign hasn't had a sip of synthehol and yet he's drunk off that knowledge.

Taehyung giggles warmly at his side. "Possessive much, Imzadi?"

The brunette's lower lip juts out in a feigned pout but he doesn't blush. "Thought you like it when I'm possessive, baby?"

The empath's eyes roll. "You could say you hated puppies, and I'd like it, Jungkook."

"Wait, you're not serious are you?" The ensigns stops, pulling Taehyung beside him.

"I'm absolutely serious," the elder-man says with a shrug.

"Are you telling me I -- are you saying that I _trump_ _puppies,_ Taehyung?"

"Yep," he pops the 'p', "Jeon Jungkook, you are better than puppies."

"Waaaah," the ensign's mouth falls open. "I'm _honored_."

Taehyung rolls his eyes again. "You're such an idiot," he laughs, but he doesn't really mean it. Jungkook can tell by the way he leans in and kisses him slowly.

Right in the middle of the corridor.

Take that Amanda Wallace.

Jungkook wraps his arms around his imzadi's waist and leans his whole weight against the older-man's mouth. He doesn't even feel shy when Taehyung's lips part, beckoning him in with a lick. He really isn't bothered about being seen. He really couldn't care less, what anyone else has to say. Suddenly, all the things he could possibly feel bashful about pale in comparison to the simple fact that he's with Taehyung: he loves this man and he wants to kiss him in the hallway - so kiss him in the hallway is what he does.

Even though the empath is taller, he shifts onto the balls of his feet and circles his arms around Jungkook's neck. The younger can feel his imzadi smile against his lips and it's potentially the most satisfying feeling in the world. Taehyung is always smiling these days. Whether they're at work or dinner with their friends - whether they're alone in their quarters, Jungkook studying and Taehyung finalizing performance reviews - the empath always has a grin.

"Baby," Taehyung sighs, his words half obscured by the fact that his lips are still running against Jungkook's. "Y'know we're still in the corridor, right?"

"Mmm," Jungkook confirms.

"You're gonna keep touching my ass though?" The elder leans back and eyes the ensign with an amused expression.

"Mmm," Jungkook says again, shifting forward to chase Taehyung's lips. When the empath moves just out of reach, the brunette frowns. "Stop it," he pouts.

Taehyung giggles soft and low, like burnt sugar. "Let's go back to our quarters. As much as I love showing you off, I kinda want you all to myself.

The elder reaches around, taking Jungkook's fingers from the small of his back and wrapping them inside his own. The ensign feels his whole body heat up to about three-million degrees kelvin as the words _'want you all to myself'_ echo around his cranium.

Being alone with Taehyung still isn't easy. It's a whole new form of torture when your lover lets you put your hands and lips all over them, whispering love against your ears and eyes and skin, but pushes against your shoulders when your hand slips past the waistband of their trousers.

Jungkook still hasn't seen the other man naked. They sleep without shirts and the bare skin of their chests press together and Taehyung clings to him all night long in his sleep. You'd think that'd be enough, but it isn't. The ensign still needs to get _closer,_ and there's only one type of closer that he knows.

Taehyung won't go for it though, and Jungkook's too afraid to ask why. He knows that Taehyung loves him more than life - he feels it through the bond - but there's an irrational, human part of his brain that wonders... maybe he's not attractive enough? Maybe Taehyung sees him as a boy rather than a man and that's why he won't let the ensign touch him; Taehyung's twenty-four and Jungkook's twenty-one so the age-difference isn't huge but - he also knows how sensitive the older-man can be.

The elder's grip tightens around his hand as they stop in front of their quarters. "I can feel you spiraling," Taehyung breathes, pressing against the access-pad. "Wanna tell me what you're thinking so I can tell you that you're wrong."

Jungkook laughs, scratching against his temple with his free hand. "You're too psychic for your own good, y'know?"

Taehyung grins. "Come on," he whispers, turning on his heel, pulling Jungkook far enough into their shared quarters that the door slides shut behind him, and suddenly they're alone. "What's on your mind, my baby?"

The ensign rolls his eyes. Taehyung has an inconceivable list of pet names which he likes to circle through. Jungkook quite likes being called 'baby', but 'imzadi' is definitely his favorite.

"Tell me," Taehyung coaxes, his arms wrapping around Jungkooks waist, pulling him close until their hips are almost pressed together.

Jungkook closes his eyes and breathes. It doesn't come naturally to him - speaking his mind. He's the type of person that might suffer through a massage because he's too nervous to tell the therapist that his muscles are too tender to be pressed so hard; he's the kind of guy that lets his friends say things that hurt his feelings unknowingly, never bothering to correct them until an inside-joke goes too far and he ends up in his quarters with un-cried tears lodged in his throat.

"It's just me," Taehyung says.

"You're the most important person in this universe, Imzadi."

"Oof," the lieutenant blushes. "I love you."

"I love you, too," Jungkook admits easily.

"Then tell me what's bothering you, hmm? I know I'm psionic and all but I can only feel what you're feeling - I don't know your thoughts, I just know that something's wrong and I want to help, I really, really want to help. I was such an asshole to you for so long and I don't want it to be like that anymore, and the idea that I've done something wrong is just fucking me up enti --"

"Why won't you sleep with me?" Jungkook blurts, his whole face and neck shining crimson underneath the white light. "I mean I know shit between us has been kind of, um, a _journey_ but it's been weeks and everything's going so well and I really, _really,_ want you desperately so I was just wondering if - ah, fuck - I mean if it's because I'm _younger_ or because I'm obviously punching I mean you're _hot_ Tae, like, _next level_ beautiful and I'm kind of average... o-or maybe it's because I'm kind of an emotional disaster, and that's not s-super sexy, I know but, I'm really feeling better s-so I just w-want to che --"

"Oh no," Taehyung whines, his forehead falling against  Jungkook's shoulder. "I've fucked up again, haven't I?"

"What?" Jungkook says. "No, of course not, baby, I'm asking you if _I've_ done something wrong."

"Jeon Jungkook," the raven-haired man shuffles, leveling with the younger. "I'm only gonna say this once tonight, so can you listen carefully?"

Slightly taken aback by the beauty him, the ensign only manages to swallow tightly, and nod.

"I don't care that you're younger, Jungkook. It's only three years, anyway, and you act like you're older half the time, so it seriously makes no difference. I hadn't even thought about it, if I'm being honest." The lieutenant puts his hand against the brunette's cheek, stroking his thumb across the bone. "You still with me?" He asks.

Jungkook nods.

The empath sucks in a breath, and blows it out slowly. "I'm so sexually attracted to you that it literally sets my skin on fire. Every time you look at me with those stupid doe-eyes and your pink pouty-lips I feel my dick twitch inside my briefs, if you really must know. You are ten-out-of-ten _hot_ , alright? Literally irritatingly, uncommonly hot and you have a jaw that I want to cut myself on and the figure of a fucking _god_ and I every time I see you without a shirt on I want to literally run my tongue across the muscles around your spine and even thinking about it now is making it difficult for me to string coherent thoughts together, let-alone voice them out-loud."

Jungkook pouts. "It's because I'm all fucked up, then, right?"

Taehyung flinches. His forehead comes to rest against Jungkook's. "You're not fucked up, Imzadi. You're perfect. But -- but we can't deny that what I did to you took it's toll. It's not your _fault_ , it's _mine_ , and I'm so horrified about what I've done, and whether I've literally damaged you by being such an incompetent waste of space and I don't want to -- I can't take advantage of you just because I feel like it, especially considering how I acted for so long, and what I've done to you."

"Tae," Jungkook whispers. "That stuff doesn't matter to me anymore. You know that."

"I know you _feel_ that way, but look at it from my side, babe. The nightmares? The panic attacks? I know I act like my brain is vacant most of the time, but I'm actually smart as hell, Jungkook. I know that's all because of me. You can't even get a good night's sleep because of me. I have literally ruined your life, already, and we're just starting."

Jungkook doesn't mean to, but he rolls his eyes. "You're being dramatic," the ensign says. "I've suffered with nightmares and panic attacks since I was literally eleven years old, Taehyung. Sometimes I still dream that I completed my dissertation but forgot to turn it in and then I suffocate under a mountain of unmarked texts that I submitted wrong." The ensign sighs. "If I get stressed out at work, I have nightmares; if I have a fight with someone I care about, I have panic attacks. It's just part of my make-up, Tae. But you know what? When you're around me, when we sleep next to each other and in each other's arms I don't have any bad dreams. If I get stressed on the bridge all I have to do is glance to the right and I see you sitting there and I just feel so fucking _calm_. I'm actually making _friends_ on-board the ship now because I can manage to string three words together without stuttering my ass off and that's something I worked on in therapy for literal _years_ and I could never get it under control." Jungkook takes his imzadi's face between his hands and stares into his dark eyes. "You see what I'm saying, baby? You're not the problem here, you're the _solution,_ alright? You don't have to treat me like a snowflake, okay? I'm not gonna break apart in your hands..."

"What if I hurt you, again?" Taehyung says quietly.

"You probably will," Jungkook admits, pecking against Taehyung's lips when the older-man stiffens. "But I'm probably gonna hurt you as well. We're gonna fight and it's gonna be hard sometimes but that's normal. And I might have more nightmares and more panic-attacks, but I want you to be around to hold me when I get scared. I wanna do everything with you. Wanna go all the way with you, and I'm sick of waiting. I've loved you since I was seventeen-years-old, and I've been fucking patient. Haven't even seen you _naked,_ yet, and it's literally been fucking... five years, Tae. Joined Nova Squadron for you - you know how hard that was? The practical assessment is a fucking nightmare!"

Taehyung laughs brightly. "I know, I'm the one that set it up."

The ensign rolls his eyes. "Of course you are."

"It wasn't difficult for me," the lieutenant shrugs.

"You're like the Picasso of space-flight, you asshole, of course it was easy for you!" Jungkook grins widely, and Taehyung's eyes pass across his face.

"You really want this?" He asks. "You're absolutely sure that it's the right time?"

"It's the right time, Taehyung. I'm literally going to die if I can't have you tonight. Like, I might actually burst into flames if you make me wait another day."

The empath takes a moment and a few measured breathes. "Okay," he says, fingers grasping around Jungkook's collar as he nods. "Alright, okay. I want you, too. So fucking much, Imzadi. You have no idea how much I've been holding back."

"Well, stop," Jungkook says gruffly. "Just be with me tonight, alright? It's just you and me."

* * *

 Taehyung pushes his imzadi until the younger's knees back into the elder's single bed. Jungkook falls with a cute little huff but his eyes never leave Taehyung's.

The empath loves being watched like this. He gets off on the brunette's eyes drinking him in like he's the most beautiful creature ever born into the universe. The lieutenant's tried a lot of synthetic pharmaceuticals in his life - some legal, some not - and none of them compare to the high of Jungkook's eyes grazing across his flesh as the raven-haired man pulls his white shirt over the top of his head, throwing it across the room where it catches on Taehyung's flight trophies, almost knocking them over.

"You're so beautiful," Jungkook breathes, reaching out to run the tips of his fingers down Taehyung's strong chest and soft abdomen.

Taehyung humors him for a moment before stepping out of arms reach. He laughs at at the way his imzadi's lips pull downward into a little pout. "Plenty of time to touch later," he muses. "Just watch for now."

It's satisfying to be able to feel love and arousal shoot through Jungkook's whole body at those words. The orange never quite leaves him but it simmers like molten sugar and everything becomes so heady and intense that Taehyung feels drunk on it. He almost wishes he were wearing more so he could prolong the process of slowly revealing his naked body to the man that he loves, drinking in his reaction like fiery-hot liquor.

He hooks his fingers inside the loose waistband of his pants and pulls them down across his legs until they pool at his feet. He steps out of the material towards Jungkook and delights in the way that his imzadi's forearm clenches with _need_ to reach out and touch him. He resists though, and the feeling of power that shoots through his body is sure to turn his eyes to ink, if they haven't already flitted to black.

But for the first time in his entire life, Taehyung doesn't turn away. His gaze bores into Jungkook's and the feeling of the younger watching him is so intense that it makes the empath's toes curl against the floor. Being naked is nothing to him. He's comfortable with the way his body is - nudity was nothing to the betazoid people - and in that sense he'd never felt like he had anything to hide. But his _soul?_ His powers and his inner thoughts and the things he could do... he always held it all so close against his chest.

But now he doesn't have to; the way Jungkook takes him in is as a _whole_ being is incredible. He's vulnerable and completely exposed but he feels safer than he ever has in his life.

He slips off his briefs without a second thought and stands in front of Jungkook, whole soul on display, waiting for him to say something - but the ensign just holds his hands towards Taehyung and beckons the him forward. He doesn't want to tease anymore so he just falls into his imzadi's arms and relishes in the way his strong hands brush delicately across his skin, making the elder shiver, bringing up tracks of goosebumps that burn hot with pleasure and love.

"So perfect," Jungkook says, running his nose across Taehyung's collarbones. "You're so beautiful," he whispers.

Then the ensign dips his head slightly and wraps his lips around the empath's nipple, licking at the sensitive flesh, causing the elder to gasp out with pleasure and bury his hands inside the younger's shiny, brunette locks, clawing at his scalp in an effort to regain some kind of control over his body.

It's no use. The way that Jungkook's tongue glances across his erect flesh, the way that his teeth nip and tease, has Taehyung hardening completely and, almost, painfully. If it wasn't his imzadi he might even be embarrassed by how sensitive and reactive he is, barely thirty seconds into their love-making. Jungkook's still entirely dressed and the ensign hasn't bothered to even reach towards Taehyung's erection. He's too busy burying his face inside his lovers chest, fingers and nails digging into the flesh of his imzadi's back, making the elder absolutely delirious with stimulation and arousal.

"Jungkook can I -- can I link us properly?" The empath gasps. "I w-want you to feel w-what I'm f-feeling as well."

"Please,"

The younger almost sounds like he's begging, so Taehyung takes his face between his hands and locks their eyes.

He's never done this before. He's never used his abilities for purposes of pleasure, but something inside him say that this is exactly what he needs to do; his body lets him know, almost instinctually, that this is as much a natural part of sex as the way he hardens naturally and pre-come beads at the tip of his cock.

It's easier, even, than the first time to inject himself into Jungkook's mind. The difference is also astounding. There's no cloud of anxiety snaking around his conscience like a parasitic vine; instead, the ensign shines brighter than any sun and Taehyung can see all of him clearly. All the important moments of his life flash through the empath's mind: the faces of his parents - both of them, even the pair he can't remember - and the love he feels for the people that raised him; learning how to ride a bike, falling off and scraping his knee so badly that he can still remember the pain even now; fighting with his foster brother over holoroom privilages so violently that his face is scarred forever; years and years of bullying at the hands of his middle-school peers; the love of his mother; the pride of his father; the white hot joy of acceptance into the academy; his first lover and the three minutes of hot, sticky bliss.

The first time he sees Taehyung, squinting against the distance and the intense desire to _know him_.

The sound of Taehyung's voice, penetrating deep throughout his memory and _changing_ him.

Jungkook used to be yellow and green, he discovers, but then he learned the sound of Taehyung and all of a sudden he was orange and purple and red.

Their first kiss; all of the pain and agony between them; lying in bed at night gasping for breath, longing for Taehyung to touch him and love him, to come to him and take his pain away.

It's enough to break the empath's heart.

" _No,"_ Jungkook thinks, as his lips press into Taehyung's. _"There's so much more than that. You're so much more than just that pain, Taehyung."_

The empath stutters in his kiss, his body coiling tightly as he comes, completely dry.

"Tae," Jungkook says with a start, running his hands across his lover's face, his own features twisted with concern. "Did I do something wrong? A-Are you okay?"

"I --" He can't even really speak.

The feeling of Jungkook's thoughts inside his mind for the very first time had brought him straight to climax.

It's almost _embarrassing._

"Talk to me, Imzadi, what's happening? I can feel you but it's all so much - I don't know how to understand it, it's too intense --"

"I-I'm o-okay," Taehyung gasps, his body collapsing into Jungkook's. "J-Just n-need a sec, s-sorry."

"That's fine, baby. God, I'm so sorry, I shouldn't've done that without asking, I h-hope I didn't hurt you."

Taehyung breathes in, Jungkook's scent filling up all his senses, making him feel so fucking _good._ "You didn't," Taehyung says, still panting a little. "Jungkook I think I - I think I just came."

The ensign pauses, his hands stilling against the empath's bare back. "I - I didn't touch you though? And you're still hard..."

"It's never happened to me before," the elder's face heats up and he buries his cheeks deeper into the crook of his imzadi's neck. "It _felt_ like an orgasm, though."

"I'm still wearing my clothes," Jungkook _whines_. "That's not fair!" But he's laughing, Taehyung can feel his shoulders shake against his arms.

"Shut up, Christ. That's so embarrassing. I feel like a twelve-year-old."

"If you were twelve there's no way you'd still be hard, Tae," The ensigns grins. "Do you want help?" He asks lightly. "Do you wanna keep going?"

Taehyung doesn't feel spent. In fact, he's still as desperate as he ever was to get inside Jungkook. _More so,_ now that they're connected.

Taehyung lifts his head from his imzadi's shoulder and looks down at Jungkook through his lashes. "I'm not stopping," he says.

"Okay," the ensign breathes, the relief in his voice is obvious. "Help me out of these clothes, then. I wanna feel you everywhere."

Taehyung obliges. He snaps open Jungkook's collar easily, pulling against the buttons with shaky fingers, revealing more and more of his naked torso as his hands move across the front of the shirt. Eventually, enough of it is open that he can push the shirt off-of his lover's broad shoulders, revealing the curved muscle of his chest and his chiselled abdomen which surges with breath as he pants, desperate for Taehyung to touch him.

With the fabric pushed aside, Taehyung runs his fingers down Jungkook's abdomen very, very slowly. He's done this before, reached out and touched the ensign's abs. The first time he'd had to pretend that he wasn't entirely enamored, covering up the quick movement with an even faster vault of water. Now, he has nothing to hide. His fingers trace along the lines as Taehyung commits everything he sees and touches to memory.

Jungkook's head falls back, exposing his sharp jaw as he hisses towards the ceiling. "You're driving me absolutely fucking insane, Imzadi."

"It's your fault for being built like this," Taehyung grins, head dropping so he can kiss across Jungkook's jaw and collarbones and his firm, muscular chest. "Like, you're out in the universe looking like this and it's not fair."

"You're one to talk, have you looked at yourself, lately?"

"I'm all soft and pudgy and shit," Taehyung laughs.

"You have the nicest ass I've ever seen. It's so perky and round and I just wanna smack the shit out of it," Jungkook growls, and Taehyung feels his eyes roll into his head. "You'd like that, wouldn't you? I thought it would be embarrassing to admit but I could feel your excitement when I said it like, almost as if it was my own."

The empath smiles. "You'll get better at distinguishing between us soon. I'll teach you how some time, but for now, go ahead and tell me all the things you like about me while I go ahead and deal with these pants."

Jungkook's laugh turns into a groan as Taehyung's hand run down across his chest and abdomen, settling at the band of his trousers. He slips his fingers into the waist-band and enjoys the way that his imzadi tries his best not to buck-upwards as he slowly undoes the button, and pulls against the zip.

"I'm listening," Taehyung says.

"Your eyes," Jungkook groans, lifting his hips from the bed so the empath can pull his trousers out from underneath him.

The lieutenant's nails graze purposefully against the flesh of Jungkook's thighs. "Knew that one already," he whispers. "Tell me something you haven't before."

"Your hair," the ensign barely manages as the elder pulls his trousers over his knees, across his feet, until they're entirely off. "Your dark hair drives me insane. It looks s-so fucking soft, I just wanna r-run my hands through it always."

"Mmm," Taehyung smiles, fingers gripping around the band of Jungkook's black briefs.

The younger-man is entirely hard, and the empath can't help the way that a smug satisfaction washes through his entire body and soul. He palms Jungkook gently through the fabric of his underwear and the ensign moans loudly, his jaw falling slack as the sound fills their quarters, hitching against the walls and bouncing against all of Taehyung's senses.

"Can't wait to be inside you," Taehyung blurts.

Jungkook doesn't respond. He just pants harder.

The ensign lights up like a red-dwarf, embarrassment flooding the link when the empath gets to work slipping his briefs down his legs slowly. "Tell me something else," he says, barely able to speak when Jungkook's erection springs free and his perfect cock is right there, completely hard and impressive in size and beading pre-come so enticingly that Taehyung wants to take him into his mouth and suck him off right then and there.

"Your hands," Jungkook admits, eyes still squeezed shut. "I love how l-long and delicate they are."

"Gonna use them to stretch you out, baby," Taehyung whispers, unhooking the younger man's feet so that he can remove his briefs entirely, throwing them so they join the rest of Jungkook's clothes somewhere on the other side of the room. "Lie back," the lieutenant whispers, kissing strongly into Jungkook's lips until he falls backwards into the mattress.

Taehyung wasn't gonna say it out-loud, but after one too many glasses of Andorian synthehol he'd allowed Jimin to convince him into replicating a bottle of lubricant _'just in case'._ Now, he can't be happier to find it easily, waiting for him in the drawer of his bed-side cabinet.

He takes the bottle into his hands and looks down at Jungkook. His imzadi is watching him with blown irises and flushed cheeks, his chest rising and falling rapidly with each breath. He looks like one of Taehyung's wet dreams: his dick hard and red, lying in wait against his taught stomach; their legs are tangled together and Jungkook's hands are flat and hot against the empath's thighs, and the lieutenant can feel his patience failing. If Taehyung doesn't give in to him soon, then he'll be the one getting fucked tonight.

And for the first time in his life, that idea doesn't really irk Taehyung at all. He likes to be dominant - something about his more basic nature - but with Jungkook it doesn't feel like it would matter. He wouldn't mind having Jungkook on-top of him, caging him in with his tight arms; he wouldn't mind the extra effort of riding him, circling his hips against Jungkook's core and waiting expectantly for that immense pressure of being filled entirely by the man that he loves.

He wouldn't mind submitting. In fact, the idea is almost, _almost,_ too enticing to pass up.

"Tell me something else," Taehyung pants, clicking the bottle of lubricant open, and spreading it across his fingers. He lets some drip against Jungkook's hardness and delights in the way that the cold fluid makes the younger man squirm underneath him. "Not gonna touch you until you tell me something else."

The ensigns eyes roll into his head. "Your voice," Jungkook gasps. "H-How deep and sweet it is -- drives me insane."

Taehyung nods, and for the first time, he reaches down and touches against Jungkook's core. The ensign gasps, hips bucking towards him, eyes squeezing even tighter shut. He's so entirely sensitive that the feeling of Taehyung's cool, slick fingers running past his hard cock, his balls, right down to his entrance, is enough to bring him close to an orgasm.

"Not yet, baby. Wanna do so much more." Taehyung's finger's ghost against Jungkook's hole, and the ensign jerks a little, a strange sort of feeling running through his mind that Taehyung can't quite place. Is it... nerves? Maybe he's nervous because it's been a while. "What else do you love about me, Imzadi?" Taehyung asks. His ego is filled entirely to the brim so he does it to distract Jungkook more than anything.

"I - y-your shoulders a-and your chest," the ensign whines. "I n-never thought I would f-find that attractive b-but t-the fact that y-your shoulders are so b-broad and it's _manly_ r-really works f-for me."

Taehyung laughs, his first finger poised and ready. "Why would that surprise you?" He giggles, running the pad of his index finger gently across Jungkook's hole.

The ensign gasps. "B-Because I've n-never wanted a man b-before."

Taehyung opens his mouth to laugh, but pauses instead. "What?" He asks.

"It surprised me that I like your more m-masculine features, b-because I've never w-wanted a man, before."

Taehyung pulls his hand away entirely, and Jungkook whines at the loss. "S-Stop teasing me," he groans.

"Jungkook," the empath breathes. "Are you a -- are you a virgin?"

"No," the ensign laughs. "Of course not."

"B-But you've dated men before?"

"No," he shakes his head, and despite the fact that he's naked and hard as a rock, he still looks innocent.

"So - sorry, wait, um," the empath feels his brows knot together. "So you're not a virgin - you've, um, been with women before but you've never -- you've never --"

"I've never been with a man, no," Jungkook admits.

"Jesus, Jungkook," Taehyung groans, his forehead falling into his lube-free hand.

"Is that a problem?" Jungkook's voice takes on a frantic edge, and the lieutenant lifts his face to look at him.

"Jungkook, fuck," he groans. "Why do you have to be so fucking selfless all the time? Why didn't you tell me you've never been with a man before? Jesus Christ, I've been going on and on about being _inside_ you and you've just fucking sat there like it was nothing! Why didn't you say?!"

"Say what, Tae?"

"That I should bottom!"

"I --" The ensign pauses, sitting up on his arms. "I didn't even think about it," he says. "I just wanted be with you; I really don't care about that stuff."

"B-But you're not even, like, really into _guys,_ are you? You're not worried about having one literally _inside_ you?"

"Well I am into guys, obviously, Tae. You're a man, aren't you? I don't feel any different than I usually would. Except like... more excited, I guess, because I love you. I'm still _hard_..."

"Oh God," Taehyung cries. "I'm the worst person in the Universe. I didn't even ask you if you were comfortable, first!"

Jungkook's jaw quirks. "For fuck's sake Taehyung, the only thing that's making me uncomfortable is the fact that I'm so fucking turned on my dick's about to explode and I want you so _badly_ but you keep fucking _stalling_. You obviously wanted to be inside me and that's a fucking happy revelation if I'm honest, so I couldn't care less if you're a man or a horse or a potato, you fucking idiot. I just want to be _with_ you. Please, Tae. Don't make me beg, okay? I'm so fucking desperate for you right now. Please, baby --"

"But you didn't even _like men before me_ ," the empath whines. "This makes no sense!"

"Taehyung, stop. I don't care what your fucking _gender is_. You're _you_ and that's all that matters. Please come here and make-love to me. You can fuck me, even, if you want. I honestly don't care. I just want you, baby. I love you so much, alright? We've got so much time to sort this all out later, so please just come to me right now."

"Jungkook..."

_"Taehyung, just come to me. I need you. Please."_

Jungkook needs him? He hears those words in his mind and he doesn't even remember what he was worried about in the first place. He can still feel Jungkooks arousal, except its so far beyond it's own upper threshold that his imzadi is in pain. Jungkook shouldn't be in pain. Not ever. Especially when the empath just wants to make him feel so good.

 _"Okay,"_ Taehyung whispers against his mind. _"Okay, I'm gonna take care of you, alright?"_

Jungkook nods, his doe-eyes round and full of love and trust. _"I know,"_ he thinks. _"Please, baby, I'm ready. Need you so much."_

_"Okay. I love you."_

_"I love you, too, Imzadi."_

Taehyung feels oddly calm. He runs his slick fingers together to ensure there's enough residual lubricant. It's nice an warm now, at least - completely level with the empath's body temperature. When his fingers run against the inside of Jungkook's thighs and down towards his core the ensign shivers with pleasure and need, reaching forward to run his hands across whatever part of Taehyung's torso he can reach. The empath searches his mind for any kind of fear or regret, and finds nothing but love. Always love with Jungkook.

_"It's gonna sting a bit, but we'll take it really slow, okay? Tell me if you need a break."_

_"I will,"_ Jungkook thinks, and he sends the empath a reassuring smile. 

The fact that he knows - the fact that _Taehyung_ is the one that needs to be reassured, is a little silly, but it makes the empath's stomach feel bubbly either way.

 _"Alright,"_ he thinks, sweeping the pad of his thumb lovingly across Jungkook's tightness. _"Just relax, Imzadi."_

Their eyes focus on one another, as Taehyung pushes his finger inside of Jungkook for the first time.

The ensigns eyes go a little wide, and his back lifts off of the mattress, but he doesn't yell out,  or whine, or look disgusted. In fact, his mind is still entirely red-hot with need and the satisfaction of knowing that even a portion of Taehyung is inside him does nothing but drive him forward in his desire. So Taehyung begins to move his finger slowly, aided mostly by the slick lubricant, in and around Jungkook's core.

He's incredibly tight, and the thought alone has Taehyung hardening all over again. The way that Jungkook starts to relax around his finger, and press his weight against his hand, rolling his hips on instinct alone has the empath feeling heat all across his body. Jungkook looks so beautiful, and he's opening up for him literally and figuratively and Taehyung just wants to ravish him. He wants to forgo the pleasantries and enter him, and fuck into him until the ensign can't see. But his brain's so fucked up with love that the concept of hurting his mate chasing his own pleasure is almost literally revolting.

There's not pleasure for him without Jungkook's ecstasy. That's a new feeling.

_"More,"_

The thought ghosts through Taehyung's mind and the empath refocuses on Jungkook's features, the way he bites his bottom lip between his teeth and begs Taehyung with his eyes. The elder slips his second fingers inside and expects Jungkook to hiss, or groan, or clench around him. All that happens is that the younger-man's lids flutter shut, his lashes casting a tiny shadow against his cheek; his lips part and he small moan tumbles out of his mouth to be consumed by Taehyung's ears.

 _"Are you okay?"_ Taehyung asks, surprised by his imzadi's reaction. _"Did that hurt you?"_

Jungkook shakes his head. _"No,"_ he thinks gently. _"I've felt no pain."_

_"None at all?"_

_"None."_

_"Are you ready for more, baby? I can make it feel even better if you think you can take it?"_

_"I can,"_  Jungkook's doe-eyes open, dizzy and unfocused with pleasure and lust. 

Taehyung buries his fingers a little deeper, curling inward, searching for the one spot that will show Jungkook the pleasure he deserves. It takes the empath a moment, but eventually his fingers graze against just the right point and Jungkook lurches underneath him.

"Holy Christ," he pants. "W-What did you just do?"

Taehyung grins. "Did you like it? Some people don't, actually. Especially if they d-don't have a lot of experience with anal sex."

"I liked it," Jungkook breathes. "I'll tell you if I don't like s-something, okay?"

"Okay," Taehyung laughs, moving his fingers across Jungkook's prostate another time.

 _"Uh - "_ the ensign moans, reaching towards Taehyung's shoulder for support.

The empath gets to work stretching Jungkook carefully. His muscles relax around Taehyung's fingers easily, urged forward by the stimulation against his nerves. Eventually, the lieutenant takes the lube, emptying more onto his hand, and against Jungkook's opening.

"Cold," Jungkook whines, but he bites his bottom lip and practically mules with pleasure, so Taehyung assumes that he doesn't need to feel particularly guilty about that one.

"Ready?"

When the ensign nods, Taehyung slips in a third finger inside Jungkook, reaching into him deeply and flicking against his prostate another time to distract the younger-man from any potential sting. Though, feeling around in his thoughts, the empath can't sense any pain. In some respect, all he can really decode aside from pleasure is a sense of foreignness. It makes sense, considering the brunette hadn't ever had anal sex before. Other than that he was putty in Taehyung's hands. He was preening and desperate and rolling towards him, moaning and panting into the air, reaching out with his hands, grounding himself against Taehyung's shoulder.

 _"I'm ready,"_ Jungkook's pleasure is clear even inside his silent thoughts. _"Need you now."_

 _"Okay,"_ Taehyung thinks, looking down at his imzadi's naked form.  _"Alright, fuck, Jungkook you're so beautiful."_

"Please, Tae," he whines.

"I'm coming, baby, here..."

The lieutenant pulls his fingers free from Jungkook's core and slicks himself with the excess lubricant which runs across his hand. He hisses at his own sensitivity though his gaze is locked on Jungkook, whose eyes are wide with need, beckoning him forward until they're chest to chest, kissing again, finally, now that Taehyung feels a little more calm and has a little bit more focus left to spare.

The empath lowers his hips and feels his erection brush against Jungkook's; both lovers call out against each other's mouths as Taehyung rolls his downwards another time. He could come like this - he wouldn't even have to be inside him. He could come with just the ghost of Jungkook's cock against his own, his tongue inside his mouth and their skin connected at every possible point. If he let go right now he could come --

 _"No,"_ Jungkook whispers inside his mind. _"Want you inside me, baby, please. I'm ready. I need you so much."_

Taehyung nods. He can't even spare him a thought right now, he's too caught up in feeling Jungkook all over his skin and against his lips; inside his nose and ears and eyes. It's intense, it's so entirely overwhelming that it's practically frightening. Taehyung's never felt this way about anyone before and he knows that Jungkook is end-game. There's no one else. There's no one else even though there's countless souls in the Universe.

There's no one but Jungkook.

 _"I love you, Imzadi,"_ Taehyung presses his forehead against Jungkook's.

_"Love you forever, baby."_

The elder reaches backward, hand wrapping around the base of his own cock, so he can guide it slowly into Jungkook's entrance. The second he's inside the other man, Taehyung goes blind with ecstasy. He can't even think through the feeling. Being inside of the man that he loves, connected to him physically and telepathically - mind to mind and skin to skin - feels a bit like witnessing the big-bang, or feeling a starship move into warp for the first time.

Even then, it pales in comparison.

The empath's entirely _frozen_.

"It's okay, baby, I've got you," Jungkook coos against his ear. "It's alright, shhhh." Taehyung doesn't realize he's crying until his imzadi reaches up and brushes the tears out of his eyes. "I'm here, my love, don't cry."

"S-Sorry," the empath sobs. "It's just - it's a lot, right now."

"That's okay," Jungkook whispers. "We can just go slow."

So they go slow. Taehyung stays motionless inside Jungkook as the pair kiss long and deep, arms wrapping around each other, mouths moving languidly sometimes, and then desperately, as if they're both starved of one another.

The empath barely realizes it when he starts to move inside his lover, thrusting into him deeply, Jungkook bracing against his shoulders and moaning into the air. The lieutenant quickens his pace when he feels able and he worries for half a moment that he might hurt the younger-man, but the ensign just scratches his nails against his back and begs for _more, more, yes_ , _Imzadi, God, please._ He doesn't ask for anything specifically so Taehyung doesn't know why he hitches the younger-mans leg right over his shoulder so he can roll his hips quicker and deeper and give him the _more_ that he begs for over and over.

"F-Feel so fucking perfect, Imzadi. T-Taking me so well. M-Made for me, w-weren't you?"

"Yes," Jungkook whines. "M-Made for each other."

It's the ensign's turn to sob; tears collect in his eyes as Taehyung rolls into him, pressing their foreheads together, interlocking their hands on either side of Jungkook's head. Why is it that the action alone feels almost as intimate as being inside the other? Jungkook's whole heart and mind swells when Taehyung kisses him slowly, despite the speed of his thrusts. He should probably control the way he slides his cock into Jungkook like neither are going to be alive to make-love ever again, but he can't

He's got no control, anymore. He's completely lost inside his imzadi's body and mind that he can't focus on anything but the love and the pleasure that both young-men feel.

It hasn't been a quick fuck by any means, but it still seems like it's too soon when the empath feels an incredible, sharp and hot pleasure building around his core. He knows he can't hold out much longer; though he wants to give Jungkook every ounce of pleasure that he possibly can, he just loves the man underneath him so much and being inside him feels so perfect that he's starting to worry he might go blind again if he doesn't let himself go soon.

"'S o-okay, _uh, God,_ baby, just c-come."

Taehyung pulls a hand free from Jungkooks and takes a small moment to coo at the resistance. _Jungkook didn't wanna let go of my hand_ , he thinks, but he knows he won't mind when the empath's fingers wrap around his neglected cock and start pumping him quickly, as much in time with his own sloppy thrust as Taehyung can manage in this state of mine. Jungkook's lips part against Taehyung's cheek as his breaths turn to whines and grunts, his whole body practically thrumming with the pleasure of added stimulation.

Seeing his imzadi writhe like that is what throws Taehyung over the edge. He'd caused Jungkook so much pain for so long and now, finally, after all this time, he's giving his perfect, wonderful love all the pleasure that he deserves. Any other time, the empath might worry that he's too loud as he cries out Jungkook's name, thrusting into him as many more times as he can manage before he lets go entirely, pumping his load into the younger.

Even so, he doesn't stop. His hand around Jungkook's length speeds up, and he milks his own lasting erection for all it's worth, pressing deeply into his imzadi, angling towards where he knows his prostate is the most sensitive. The intensity of it all is enough to throw the ensign over the edge, as well. He comes across his stomach and Taehyung's hand, his core clenching so tightly that the stimulation brings the empath near to unconsciousness. The only thing that keeps him lucid is the thought that Jungkook has to feel good. He has to keep palming his imzadi until he has no come left and his cock is soft in his hand and the younger man is _shaking_ underneath him, sobbing Taehyung's name into the air over and over like it's the only word he knows.

It doesn't take much longer to get him there. The pleasure reflected inside the bond makes everything more intense, anyway, and in less than thirty-seconds they're both entirely spent: whole bodies thrumming, minds void of anything except for pleasure and each-other. Taehyung collapses on-top of Jungkook without a care that they're both covered in sweat and lubricant and come. He just needs the younger-mans touch to ground him. When there's so much ecstasy that it hurts to even breath, something inside him becomes suddenly desperate for comfort; he wants his imzadi to reassure him, to let him know that he's going to be okay.

They lie motionless, bodies connected for a long-moment. Somewhere in there Taehyung pulls-free, Jungkook gasping from the emptiness, as he readjusts to the absence of his lover inside him. Somewhere along the line the younger-man's arms wrap around Taehyung's torso, pulling him upwards to the elder can nuzzle his face into Jungkook's sweaty neck, inhaling, memorizing the way that Jungkook's skin tastes and smells when he's so fucked out on Taehyung that he can't even string three words together.

Somewhere, somehow, they eventually find the energy to kiss. It's the longest and the slowest they've ever shared and with the intensity of their arousal out of the way, there's nothing in it but love and romance and intimacy. There's nothing to stop them from kissing for hours. Neither seems to care that they've both got dried come crusted into their skin and Taehyung's fingers are sticky and overall it's just a bit of a mess. They just keep kissing.

Taehyung's never kissed anyone like this. He's never been _kissed_ like this. This is a selfless kiss between two people who would die for each other, but its also promise: in spite of that fact, they're gonna keep living for one-anotherr, as well. They're going to put all the fear and uncertainty and pain and heartbreak to bed and promise to only move forward. They're going to love each other and kiss each other and make-love to each other for as long as their bodies and minds are capable, no matter what happens.

That's the kind of kiss they share. It's a once in a life-time kiss and yet Taehyung's found someone to kiss him like that forever.

How'd he get so lucky?

"Thank you," Jungkook whispers eventually, when they're forced to separate so they can _breathe_. "Thank you, baby. That was incredible."

"I love you," Taehyung whispers. "I've loved you forever. Gonna keep doing that, if it's cool with you?"

Jungkook laughs. "It's cool with me. It's super cool."

"Shower?" Taehyung asks. "Both covered in come."

"Mmm," Jungkook whines, shaking his head. "Can't let you go yet."

"Don't have to," the empath laughs. "Shower together."

"Just gonna want to fuck you."

The lieutenant shrugs. "So fuck me," he says. "Fuck me as many times as you like."

Jungkook sighs. "Can't believe you're saying that shit to me. You probably shouldn't, actually. You'll never see the light of day again."

"We're in space, anyway. Not a lot of daylight to go 'round. Wasted so much time, as well. Got, like, four months of fucking to make up for."

"Four months?" Jungkook breathes. "How many fucks do you think that is?"

"How many times a day are we fucking, hypothetically?"

"Twice?" The ensign offers. "Once in the morning; once at night?"

"That all?" Taehyung pouts. "Might have to find me a temporary stand-in if twice a day's enough to tire you out, Jungkookie."

The brunette's arms tighten around the empath. "Just the thought of someone else touching you makes my blood boil right now."

"It's the bond," the older-man sighs. "I actually gagged a little when I said that. Don't wanna be touched by anyone but you, ever."

"Christ, I love you," Jungkook kisses the crown of Taehyung's head. "I love you, okay? Now and forever, Imzadi."

"I love you, too, baby. You're my imzadi so I don't even feel gross when I say shit like: we were literally made for each other, okay? There's no life without you. I actually feel like the universe might turn in on itself if you weren't around. So don't go anywhere, alright? Promise me you won't go anywhere."

"I won't, Tae. Unless we go together, we don't go at all, alright? You and me."

Taehyung smiles, shifting slightly so he can cuddle into Jungkook. Dry come pulls against his skin, and the empath cringes. "How about you and me in the shower, though? I feel nasty as hell."

The ensign laughs. "I like seeing you covered in my come. Reminds me that you're mine."

"Ew," Taehyung whines, smacking Jungkook's firm chest. "I love you so much."

The brunette laughs, his eyes crinkling at the corner. "Ew," he says. "I love you too."

[Twitter](https://twitter.com/Mussells1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God that felt like such a long sequence of smut. I'm as exhausted as they are, tbh. How many times do Taekook have to say they love each other. Like, we get it, you're iN LOvE. 
> 
> They a little cheekier in the sack than Namjin. It was kinda hard to get the balance right, because I want their own energies to speak through even their filthier moments. So boring when all the smut reads the same. Hope you enjoyed either way. Remember three seconds of full submersion in Holy Water should be enough. Don't overdo it. 
> 
> Sound off as usual!

**Author's Note:**

> More to come! More to come! 
> 
> Love,
> 
> Mussells


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